


Lens

by raikaya (rqyh)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: (usually on dowoons part), Adulthood, Amazing, Attempt at Humor, DO NOT GET INTIMIDATED ITS ACTUALLY PRETTY SWEET, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Kinks, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Photographer Dowoon, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pornstar Young K, Responsible kinking, Sex, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Swearing, Texting, There will also be, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, Wow, actually the characterization is typical of what you would expect from ao3 day6, also dowoon gets a ton of existential crises, also lowkey crack HAHAHAHA, and, and younghyun is annoying, but also pretty... not, but not to the point where he becomes a butthole, but there is only one i promise, but you get the picture, dont ask me how this au started, dowoon is a tsundere of course he is what else could he be, future trigger warnings will be put in beginning notes, he teases a lot, irregular updates, lots of them - Freeform, not really a slow burn i think??, plus - Freeform, pornstar AU, probably, specific smut tags in chapter notes, these are way too many tags, we get lots of cute moments from the get-go, we hear his thoughts often, yeap, yes here we go, you know where im going with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-03-13 13:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18941671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/raikaya
Summary: When amateur photographer Dowoon finds himself broke and out of options, he ends up taking a  job for a porn company, hoping it would only be a one-time thing.But what he doesn't expect is a meeting with literally the most gorgeous man in the century, giving him an unnecessary boner in his dick—And in his heart.





	1. A Level 3 Soldier with Only a Rusty Sword and a Potion × 2 as Equipment

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This fic was written on a whim with no proper research except for what I already knew prior to writing. In the future, I hope to correct some stuff, but for now, we're all just gonna have to deal :^).
> 
> UPDATE: This fic is currently being translated into Chinese! by the beautiful [@bemykitten99](https://twitter.com/bemykitten99) on Twitter owo. The [first chapter](https://piggypuppy95.lofter.com/post/311865d5_1c77f83b1) is currently up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW tags specific to this chapter: Masturbation, Voyeurism, Picture-Taking, Watching Porn, A Ton of Kinks Mentioned, Role Play, Vanilla Sex, Not-So Vanilla Sex

Dowoon cannot believe himself for one fucking minute.

               A car passes by in front of him as he waits for the stop light to turn green, the entire weight of the world resting on the hand placed on his temple, while he thoroughly dreads whatever lies across that street. It's his own fucking fault that he even ended up in this situation, and his own fucking desperation that he's even going through with this, but damn him if he doesn't still want to fucking run away from it all together because it's just way too much to think about.

               He groans out loud as he thinks of why he even got in this situation in the first place, which came in the form of his roommate bursting into his room and finding him praying to his ancestors to give him relief from his impending doom. He had asked him why he was being more pathetic than usual, and Dowoon had answered that the manager for his part-time job still hadn't given him his paycheck--which meant that he couldn't pay rent for that month, or the next. When he asked him why he wouldn't just withdraw from his savings account, Dowoon didn't give an answer--which was already good enough for him.

               “In that case, I think I got just the right solution for you, buddy,” his roommate said with a sneaky grin and a finger gun.

               “You're gonna pay my side of the rent for me?” Dowoon asked, clasping his hands together and holding onto hope that a miracle would happen.

               “No.” _Drats._ “My friend is currently needing a guy at her work, and I think you might be the perfect guy for the job. You’re a photographer, right? All they need is a guy to take a few shots, and _bam_ \--you're free and with pockets full of money!”

               Dowoon frowned at his roommate's offer, already feeling something off with the way he was grinning so widely as if he was _too_ excited for it--or, rather, _amused_.

               But he needed the money, and he didn't wanna burden _or_ worry his mother back in Busan by asking for her help, so he accepted the offer and asked for the details.

               And found himself completely horrified with the result.

               “ _Nonono--_ no _way_ in _heck_ , hyung!” He shook his head rapidly, feeling himself become more abhorred by the minute. “I take it back--I’d rather live in the streets than take pictures of--”

               His roommate flashed his phone screen in his face before he could finish. And Dowoon found himself blinking at it, reading the contents.

               “That,” his roommate said, “is how much you will get paid from just one shooting. You only need to do it _once_. And then it'll be over, just like that. You'll be able to pay rent. And you'll even have enough extra to buy a complete set of that anime you want.”

               Dowoon swallowed, feeling a hypothetical sweat trickle down his cheek.

               “Wh-when did you say they needed me, hyung?” he asked, voice small.

               And his roommate grinned triumphant at him, satisfied with having won the war.

               And now, Dowoon is currently standing on a sidewalk, camera hanging from his neck like a fucking omen, and gazing upon the building across the street where his inevitable death is going to take place. Starting today, he will never be able to live with peace ever again. Starting today, he will have been a disappointment to his mother's eyes. _I’m sorry, Eommeo-nim. I’m sorry to have failed you._

               He lets out a sigh as he puts a hand over his face again, going over what he has to do for the umpteenth time and shaking his head, tired of it all. Nothing he can do now. His roommate already told his friend that a sure replacement was already on its way, and Dowoon really did need the money. Besides, he only needed to do it once, right? Once, and then it's over, and he can push it all behind him and pretend it never happened.

               So when the light turns green, Dowoon gets his face out of his hands and walks onto the pedestrian lane with a panicky sort of determination. He is going to get through this. He is going to survive this fucking mishap, and he is going to get that fucking bread, and he is going to kill his fucking roommate after this, so he can feel gratified from all the pain he made him fucking going through. It’s now, or fucking _never_.

               The moment he walks into the hotel, he is immediately met with cool air and a sense of refinement, as most hotels are. This one is colored a fancy shade of gold, cream, and brown, a chandelier lighting up the main lobby and some expensive-looking couches laid out for people in waiting. Surely not a scene where anyone would expect this sort of thing to take place. Then again--it was never supposed to happen in the main lobby, anyway.

               As if on cue, a man sitting on one of the couches stands up and walks over to him with a friendly grin and a wave, looking as if he had been waiting a long time.

               “Hey, there!” he greets. “Are you Yoon Dowoon-ssi?”

               _He gave these people my real name, fucking asshole._ “Y-yes, that would be me, sir,” Dowoon says politely, bowing a little.

               “Great. Right this way, then.” The man beckons for him to follow. “You're just on time.”

               The man leads him to a hallway where all the rooms are, the same golden palette from before coloring the walls. From where the main lobby used to have cream tiles, however, a green carpeted floor replaces it, as do the small lights lining the walls to the chandelier.

               “Sorry this was on such short notice,” says the man beside him, positioned just a little in front of him as he guides his direction. “Our main guy suddenly called in sick from _hypothermia_ \--and there was no one else free this week. I assume this is your first time doing this sort of thing?”

               “Y-yeah, it is.” Dowoon scratches his neck, feeling sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not sure if I'm even fit for the job.”

               “Oh, don't you worry about that sort of thing.” The man waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn't have to look fancy. So long as you keep your shots unblurry and focus on the right things, you're good to go.”

               _Problem is I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on_ anything _…_ Dowoon thinks, biting his lip.

               The man abruptly stops and Dowoon is faced with a cream-colored door, just two doors away from the end of the hallway. He gulps at the sight of it, wondering how it looks like on the other side.

               “Well, this is where the magic happens, I guess,” the man says, placing his hands on his hips. “You don't have to worry much about the guy you'll be shooting. He's completely professional, and frankly, any bad shot is good if he's in it. Believe me.”

               Dowoon finds himself hitching a breath as the man knocks on the door with a pattern that obviously sounds like a code. _Shit, we’re really doing this._

               “Hey, it’s me,” the man calls to the door. “You ready?”

               “ _Come on in_ ,” says a deep voice behind the door, and Dowoon honest-to-god clutches onto his camera. _Shit, we’re REALLY doing this._

               The man opens the door and they both walk in to see a room clad in the same golden palette as before, with brown curtains lining up the walls and a ginormous cream-colored bed. Two wall lights mimicking the chandelier stick out from either side of it, and the floor is a carpet colored gold.

               But what takes the spotlight from everything else is the most gorgeous man Dowoon has ever seen, standing by the bed in front of what Dowoon assumes to be the bathroom. Posture completely refined and jaw as sharp as a knife, he’s clad in nothing but a bathrobe, feet bare and part of his shoulder and chest exposed. His hair has been dyed completely white, parted in the middle, and his eyes-- _shit, his eyes--_

               They're fucking beautiful.

               The gorgeous man tilts his head a bit at Dowoon, almost questioningly or challenging, and he snaps out of his reverie, cursing himself for being such a dunce at literally the worst possible situation.

               “Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, then,” his guide prompts, patting Dowoon on the shoulder. “Don't worry, kid; you'll do great.”

               And the man leaves, leaving Dowoon, the gorgeous man, and Dowoon’s internal panic alone in a locked hotel room.

               The gorgeous man is the first to speak.

               “So you're the new cameraman, huh?” he asks, keeping his gaze on Dowoon as if studying him. Dowoon tries not to flinch under it; wouldn't want to come off as rude.

               “Th-that would be me,” he says, bowing politely. “U-um, I’m Yoon Dowoon, twenty-four years old. And you are…?”

               At that, the gorgeous man lets out an amused chuckle, and Dowoon realizes that in this situation, introductions must be completely unnecessary and maybe even avoided. Which makes for another _amazing_ episode of Dowoon and His Astounding Ability to Fuck Up. (Great job, Dowoon-- _great fucking job.)_

               “You can refer to me as Young K,” the gorgeous man replies, lips curved up in an amused smile. “Let's leave it at that.”

               The gorgeous man--I mean, Young K--approaches Dowoon slowly a bit, as if biding his time.

               “This is your first time at this sort of job, isn't it?” he asks. “Not used to this sort of situation?”

               _Why is everyone just guessing this so easily._ “N-not really, no.” Dowoon shakes his head, biting the urge down to bite his lip. “I-I usually just take photos of sceneries and nature and all that sort of stuff. I-I mean, I don't even look at those sort of things online--”

               “Oh, I can tell.” Young K smiles at him, obviously finding the whole thing amusing. “Any reason for the sudden change?”

               At that, Dowoon thinks of his empty bank account and suddenly wishes he had something more interesting to say than, “I’m broke.”

               But Young K shakes his head with a smile before Dowoon could even open his mouth to answer, maybe sensing his hesitation.

               “Never mind; it was a personal question,” he says, chuckling a little and still approaching Dowoon, slowly. “Anyway, don't worry much about this sort of thing. I’ve done this long enough to know _exactly_ what needs to be done. I’ll guide you through it.”

               Dowoon finds himself almost out of breath at that statement, that exact sentence something that he had always imagined to hear in a context _oh_ -so similar to this one, but he manages to keep his cool for the moment.

               Young K finally reaches him and gives him a smile that has Dowoon struggling not to swallow, his eyes looking straight at him as he stands so, so close.

               “Let’s get to it, then, shall we?”

               Young K removes his bathrobe and suddenly, Dowoon is staring down at the full, naked body of the most gorgeous man alive, feeling his eyes widen and his cheeks flush at the sight of bare skin. He feels his fingers clutch onto his camera really, _really_ hard just to keep the high-pitched scream from leaving his throat, every piece of skin on his body suddenly burning hot, hot, _hot_.

               Dowoon doesn't even register the way his eyes rake over the body in front of him, eyes trailing a path from his neck, to his arms, to his chest, to his abdomen, to his--

               Suddenly, Dowoon's chin is moved up and he finds himself looking up at eyes shaped just like a fox’s and lips curved just as sly as a fox can be, hair draping over his eyes as the fox tilts his head, amused.

               “That's for the camera, baby,” Young K says, voice smooth as he keeps his hand on his chin, and Dowoon feels himself flush even further, the embarrassment drowning him. _Dowoon, you stupid fuck, get your shit together._

               Young K removes his hand from Dowoon's chin and makes his way over to the bed, Dowoon cursing himself as he follows him. He hastily moves to ready his camera, getting ready to shoot.

               “Did Manager-nim tell you what we're going to be shooting today?” Young K asks, propped up on the bed with his head resting on the headboard.

               “N-not exactly,” Dowoon says, still fumbling with his camera. Ugh, he can already hear his professor _tsk-tsk_ -ing at his unprofessionalism. _“One must always keep his head in any situation, Dowoon! Or else, you’ll have lost a thousand perfect shots!”_ “I was just told that I’ll be shooting a single-person set today.”

               He hears Young K chuckle at that. “Well, then, I know exactly what that means.”

               Dowoon looks up to see Young K beckoning him over to join him on the bed, and he clutches onto his camera tighter, feeling a thousand sparks run up his entire body.

               “U-um, actually, I was just planning on taking photos from a distance…”

               “Please, can you even see anything from there?” Young K smiles amused at him. “Come on. You’ll get a better view from up close.”

               _But I don't_ want _a better view up close._ Still, Dowoon gets up on the bed anyway, needing to be professional on this job. If this man with experience tells him it's better to come closer, then he has no choice but to trust him.

               But it still doesn't help the wave of nerves that suddenly shoot down to his own abdomen as he finds himself looking at the naked body of literally the most gorgeous man he has ever met. And the look that that man gives him as he keeps his bent legs on either side of Dowoon, as if they were fences and he was the Forest of Hands and Teeth, only makes it worse.

               “We usually start with some innocent shots at first, as ‘innocent’ as this photoshoot can get,” Young K tells him with a smile. “Usually, it’s just photos of me lying down on the bed and slowly teasing the camera until we finally get to the main event of the photoshoot.”

               _Fuck, fuck, fuck--don't call it that--fuck--_ “Um, so I just take some photos from above, then? And you look at the camera and stuff?”

               Young K chuckles at that. “That’s one way to put it. Take photos of the parts of me that viewers find attractive.”

               “Um, which parts do viewers find attractive?”

               At that, Young K curves his lips up in a sly smile.

               “You decide.”

               Dowoon flushes at that but doesn't say anything, trying to keep his focus on this job and the money he’s going to be making from it. _Do it for the anime, Dowoon. Do it for fucking Junji Ito._

               He puts his eye to the camera and finds Young K smiling at the lens, eyes so fucking gorgeous even through this.

               “Now,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

               Dowoon takes photos of Young K lying down flat on the bed, taking from where he's positioned between his legs. The man looks up to the camera as if it was a real person, parting his lips, half-closing his eyes, and tilting his head back as if there was someone there doing things to him that he himself can't bear. And _fuck_ if Dowoon doesn't find his throat going dry from it.

               He trails a path down, taking photos of Young K’s neck, his chest, his abdomen. The man slyly slides a hand down as Dowoon does so, following the camera, pressing a finger to his nipple and making Dowoon want to bite his lip so badly. _Be professional. Be professional._

               When Dowoon finally reaches his crotch, he accidentally presses onto the shutter with how he clutches onto his camera on instinct, trying to keep it from slipping out of his fingers. Young K’s own fingers start to wrap around his member, stroking his head so slowly that Dowoon almost lips his licks, unable to stop himself from imagining how good that must feel. And with the position he's in, it isn't all that difficult.

               But the images saving onto his camera storage aren't what makes Dowoon almost tip over the edge. The view of Young K touching himself and buckling his hips up in the pleasure of it aren't what makes Dowoon almost lose himself.

               It’s the sounds that come out of his mouth, the soft moans that slip out of his lips, and Dowoon--

               Dowoon feels like he's going crazy.

               He adjusts the angle of the camera to include Younghyun's expression in the shot, finding his throat parched from the sight and the sounds that reach his ears. The man is looking straight at him, straight at the camera, as he continues to stroke himself, lips parted so beautiful, so shiny.

               He moans and whimpers as he keeps his eyes half-lidded, head tilted back as he takes in the pleasure of it, the pleasure of the heat coiled in his abdomen. Breaths leaving his lips as he desperately keeps stroking himself, arching his back when he touches himself just right, biting his lip and creating fogs in the room as he moans and moans and moans, low, under his throat, with a deep, deep voice that sends tingles down Dowoon’s back, feeling his pants tighten from it.

               _Be professional. Don't show him you're affected. Don't show him the effect he's having on you._ But it's so difficult. So difficult when the most gorgeous man in the world is throwing his head back and letting out such soft sounds that sound so loud in Dowoon’s ears. So difficult when his gorgeous body is right there in front of him, flushed bright red, fingers stroking such a sensitive part of his body and making whoever is looking want to grab a bite to taste. So difficult when his eyes are looking straight at the camera, straight through the lens, and straight at Dowoon with a gaze so fucking desperate, so fucking enticing, as if he's doing this on purpose to get Dowoon to do something-- _anything_ \--to make him just as desperate as he is.

               So difficult that after keeping it in for so long, after struggling to keep his cool and be professional about this whole thing, Dowoon ends up parting his lips just a bit, letting out a soft breath, merely a drop to the ocean that he's been desperately holding off with his hands alone.

               He pulls his bottom lip back up immediately, hoping against hope that Young K didn't notice--

               But then the slyest smile pulls up Young K’s face as he keeps his eyes on the camera, knowing who's been behind it, knowing exactly the effect he had--the effect that he showed--on him.

               The smile on his face is mischievous, almost devious, and Dowoon can't help the flush on his cheeks when he realizes that he caught him red-handed. But he continues to take pictures of him. Has to, if he wants to complete his job.

               And the moment Young K reaches his climax is the moment that Dowoon almost loses it, too, capturing every moment, documenting every moan, every whimper, every arc of the back through the device in his hands. Wanting to preserve it. Wanting to etch it onto his memory--his camera’s memory.

               And at last when Young K lowers himself down, and his moans turn into soft breaths, Dowoon takes one last photo of him staring at the camera, smile long gone, just him in his messy state, completely fucked over, and looking gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

               Dowoon slowly lowers his camera and peeks at Young K behind it, not knowing what to say after something like that. He doesn't want to speak. Doesn't trust himself to say something that isn't stupid, or that wouldn't make him press his face onto his pillow in embarrassment.

               But Young K is already smiling again, sly look on his face. And Young K is already speaking.

               “Did you get a good shot,” he asks, “Mr Cameraman?”

               Dowoon stops himself from swallowing. Manages to not show anything, this time.

               “Yeah,” he says, holding onto his camera, “I did.”

 

Dowoon flops himself down onto his bed head-first, making the rest of his body bounce back into the air for a bit. He doesn't care that he's in a bad position for his back. He doesn't care that he's having trouble breathing with the way his face is buried into his bedsheets.

               All he _does_ care about is burying the events of yesterday into the deep, deep parts of his mind and pretending as if none of it ever happened. He low-key hopes that the lack of air will make him hallucinate enough to conjure up a world without porn, without Young K, and without the feeling of his dick trying its best to stretch its way out of his pants.

               But as he lifts his face up from his bed to finally bestow mercy upon his lungs, he knows that it’s inevitable; what happened yesterday was a real thing and no matter how much he wants to, he's never going to be able to remove the images of that from his mind anytime soon. And the bills for self-induced amnesia are so high that not even the pay he will eventually get from that picture-taking job would be able to pay for it.

               He groans as he turns around and lies with his back pressed onto his bed, staring up at the lone light in the ceiling. He cannot believe he just took about a hundred photos of a guy touching himself and looking to the camera as if seducing literally every person who lays their eyes on it. He wasn't even able to fucking bear looking at the photos on his camera storage and just sent all the photos to the person from the company unedited. What kind of situation did he fucking get himself into? Why the fuck did he even let himself get so broke that he had to fucking take _pornographic photos_ just to survive rent? Why the fuck was Dowoon such a _mess_?

               He puts his palms against his face. And not to fucking mention that life-ruining moment of when Dowoon let himself let out an almost-moan and that Young K guy fucking _smirked_ at him, like he was enjoying the fact that he had such an effect on him. That man was so fucking gorgeous that Dowoon literally had to _imagine_ someone holding onto him by the reins just so he could stay professional. And the reins were _this_ close to ripping apart.

               He didn't expect that the person he would be shooting would be the kind of Super Hot Guy that looked as if he was sculpted with the Greek gods as art reference. The guy's body was fucking flawless, his skin was fucking perfect, and his eyes--his fucking _eyes_ \--

               Fuck, if Dowoon had a lot of experience in that sort of thing, he'd fuck himself just to the look of his eyes alone.

               Ugh, Dowoon can't even believe that he's having these sort of thoughts after seeing Adonis touch himself like that. Never in his life did he ever think he'd be able to do such a thing, but life can be a real bitch sometimes and now he's a tainted, young adult with a history of porn-making and mother-disappointing, and _god_ , he is _never_ going to get himself broke ever again.

               He sits himself up on the bed, a pout on his lips and a sigh slipping out of it. Well, at least it's over and done with. His roommate wasn't lying when he said that he only needed to do one thing and then leave. The man who guided him to the hotel room before even bid him goodbye with a friendly grin and a wave, as if not expecting to see Dowoon again. Which was a good sign for him.

               Though his history is tainted, at least it's _history_. He can put it all behind him and live his life as if it never happened, and his pictures may be permanent on the Internet for the whole wide world to see, but at least his name is not on any of it (he made sure to ask to have that specifically done, or else he would live his life in recluse under the name Doon Woyoon).

               Yet, for some reason, Dowoon can't seem to get his mind off of that Young K guy and the way he carried himself throughout the entire shoot. He teased him a lot and seemed to be partial to making embarrassments out of unsuspecting individuals who would really rather be in a different situation right now, but overall? He was helpful, and accommodating, and didn't make Dowoon feel inferior or uncomfortable at all. He even took his question back when he realized it might have been too personal. And when he smiled at him--

               Dowoon has to admit it wasn't just little Dowoon down there that made a flip. (He’s talking about his stomach. You know, ‘cause of the butterflies.)

               But what can Dowoon do about it? It's not like he's ever gonna meet him again. And frankly, if he does, it would probably be in another porn-making context, and Dowoon is _so_ done with that life. Getting a crush on a pornstar is literally all the variables needed to make a cacophony out of his already mess of a life and no matter how much he'd love to climb that beanstalk, he can't let his crops to die.

               So, what Dowoon needs to do is get over this crush, get over this infatuation, and move on with his life so he can reach better pastures. He will achieve his dream of becoming a renowned photographer and making his mother proud without ever letting her know he had been a disappointment to her and bask in the clap-back glory of, “ _Yas_ , he _did_ that.”

               He is _not_ going to bring out his laptop from its place in his drawer and place it on top of his crossed legs. He is _not_ going to log onto the Internet, search up the name “Young K” into his default search engine, and scroll down literally the _thousands_ of search results that pop up on screen. And he is most absolutely _not_ going to click on the link to the official website that his client was a part of, and search his name yet again, and click on the profile with his picture right on top.

               … Yeah, Dowoon had always been a screw-up, anyway.

               “‘ _Young K, born 1993, is a bisexual Korean male who can switch from top to bottom, and dominant to submissive, depending on how he likes it,_ ’” Dowoon reads out loud in a hushed tone, a little embarrassed by the words he's saying. “So, he's a hyung older than me by two years… and bisexual…”

               _He can do a variety of things, from vanilla sex to the kinkiest of vices,_ continues the text on the website. _He’s best known for his masturbation videos, where he always asking you to look at him and him only, moaning and whimpering as if there's nothing else he wants…_

               The rest of the text talks about the kind of “magic” he makes on the bed, such as the things he does, the positions he is most found in, and the kind of people he usually has sex with in his videos.

               Dowoon finds that Young K is practically an open mind, having literally zero no-nos and about a million yes-yes-yeses. He has topped and bottomed men, topped and bottomed women, topped and bottomed men _and_ women at the _same_ time, topped and bottomed a dildo and even _himself_ , if that even made any _sense_ (he's pretty sure whoever wrote this profile was drunk, at the time).

               He has done almost every position in the book, has had rope and chains and handcuffs tied to his wrists, has been called “daddy” and _called_ other people “daddy (and mommy)”, and has done so much roleplay he could've been cast in the Oscars just for all the roles he's played.

               He has done so many things Dowoon never even knew could be done that Dowoon ends up staring flabbergasted at all he's reading, not knowing how the man who held his chin and called him “baby” was the same man with such umpteen amounts of experience that he must have reached the highest level in the game by now (Dowoon is, like, a Level 3 Soldier with only a Rusty Sword and a Potion × 2 in his inventory). But that picture on his profile is definitely him, and Dowoon can identify that man’s eyes from over a mile away.

               But as he reaches the end of the profile (which was really only one single paragraph and then, like, a thousand bullets), he finds nothing else about him said. No family background, no educational background, nothing about where he was born--no MBTI personality type, or Zodiac sign, or blood type, nothing! Not even his real name, which Dowoon for sure knows that the one written on his profile can't be, because who names their child “Young K”? What--is his last name “Young” and his first name “K”? What kind of parents would even let that happen?

               Dowoon finds that there's nothing on this site that he even wants to know about Young K, except maybe that he's a Korean bisexual male born in 1993, and finds a disappointed sigh leave his lips, wondering what kind of person Young K really is, outside of all this sex stuff. He wonders what kind of person Young K would be, if Dowoon hadn't met him the way he did.

               Out of a combination of denied curiosity, only-partly genuine boredom, and a fabricated lack of things to do, Dowoon scrolls down and clicks on Young K’s photo gallery, clicking on an album entitled “Handcuffed into Submission” (wow, fancy).

               It's a set of fifty or so photos of Young K lying down on what looks to be a bed in jail, wrists handcuffed to the metal fence-like headboard, and getting fucked by a faceless person dressed in a police outfit whose eyes are the camera.

               The album follows a story of locked-up Young K seducing a police officer into having sex with him on the bed, pushing into him and making Young K throw his head back and look as if he's begging for more, eyebrows furrowed as if he's desperate. He sucks the dick of the police officer, turns around to get fucked in the doggy position, and seemingly asks the officer to handcuff him to the bed “because he's been such a bad boy”.

               In the end, Young K tricks the officer into handcuffing himself to the bed, steals his keys, and escapes the jail cell wearing the officer’s uniform. It's a happy ending for everyone.

               (Dowoon admits the plot kinda got him hooked.)

               Convincing himself he will only look at one more, Dowoon goes over to the video section and clicks on the first video he sees, entitled “Tell Me What You Want” ( _who_ is coming up with all these names?).

               It's a video practically the exact opposite of HiS, with Young K being the dominant one and having sex with a woman, rather than a man. They're in what looks to be a bedroom, having sex in the day and all the blinds opened up for the camera to catch them red-handed through the window. But the two continue on with what they're doing, too into the moment to care.

               “ _Mmm… Ah! Fuck, right there, baby--fuck me right there!”_ the woman moans, holding onto Young K who's caging her, but has a reassuring hand pressed onto her cheek.

               _“Does this feel good, baby?”_ Young K asks, pressing soft kisses onto the woman’s neck as he pushes in deeper, but not too forceful. _“Tell me--does it feel good?”_

               _“Oh, it feels good, baby.”_ The woman moans more. _“Oh, give me more, baby, I want more.”_

               And Young K does something that makes Dowoon hitch a breath, feeling something entirely different from what he felt from seeing that previous set of photos.

               He leans in and gives the woman a tender kiss, pulling away and looking at her with all the love in his eyes.

               _“I’ll give you everything you want, baby,”_ he says. _“I’ll give you the entire world.”_

               And Dowoon knows it must be scripted. Dowoon knows that Young K and this woman probably only met once on this set, fucked each other for the cameras, and then left, just like that. It probably isn't that deep. It probably was just the magic of acting.

               But Dowoon finds himself imagining what it must feel like to be caged under those arms, but instead of feeling trapped, feeling protected. What it must feel to have someone caress your cheek, and place a tender kiss on your lips, and make love to you in the exact meaning of the word “love”. To have eyes look at you, and only you, and be the only person out of the billions of people in the world to ever have those beautiful pair of eyes belong to you. To have him be called yours. To have you be called his.

               Without thinking, Dowoon finds his fingers start to slip under his waistband--

               He _slams_ the laptop closed in one swift motion, immediately yanking his hand out of his pants.

               What is he _doing_? It’s bad enough that he developed a crush on a pornstar--now, he's going to masturbate and imagine as if he's _married_ to that pornst-- _ohh, nonono,_ he is _not_ going there, not now, not _ever_!

               He force-shuts his laptop down, not caring that it might malfunction because of it if it means refusing to look at Young K’s face ever again. He yeets himself out of his bed, hastily grabbing a jacket and his camera and yanking both over him, thankfully in that order.

               He promptly slams his door open and stomps his way to the front door, earning himself a questioning look from his roommate, who bends his back to get a good view of him from where he's watching a guitar cover of Sunday Morning on his phone-- _basic._

               “Yah, Dowoon-ah, where are you going?” Jaehyung asks, chair in a position that tells Dowoon that one single flick is gonna send him to the floor.

               “To the _park_ ,” he grumbles, angrily tying his shoes. “And frankly, this is _your_ fault!”

               Dowoon leaves the apartment and slams the door behind him, hearing something like Jaehyung falling down from his chair from the sheer force of it. Good. Step one of a question-mark amount of Revenge Schemes Against Park Jaehyung has been completed.

               He gets out of the building and immediately breathes in the fresh air of the few city trees that line the sidewalk, the smoke from the honking cars dead to Dowoon. He starts on his usual path to the children's park and looks all around him as he does, a habit he had developed since he was a kid.

               He looks at the tall buildings, the skylines, the unlit lamp posts, the streets. Spots a little kid with her family making a walking swing out of her parents and filling that sidewalk with the sound of their laughter. Spots a black cat jump from behind a fence and a car pass by the other direction. Finds the sky to be blue and the leaves to be a beautiful green and finds the sun shining down on him as if it's smiling, despite all the bad things that has happened.

               And all of it has _Dowoon_ smiling, despite all the bad things that has happened, despite the shit kind of situation he had been in. He finds the bright side to the situation: the no-longer empty pockets, the fact that at least he was able to just _meet_ the most gorgeous person in the world, the fact that he now has an excuse to bully Jaehyung--and all of it makes Dowoon realize that everything is worthwhile. That when life has its downs, it also has it ups, and right now, Dowoon can see that everything is starting to _look_ u--

               He slams into somebody and almost falls onto his butt, having to steady himself lest he break his camera. Good thing he had his hands on it, or there could have been _serious_ damage.

               “Shit, sorry, I bumped into you--” the person abruptly cuts himself off for some reason--

               “No, it’s okay; sorry I wasn't looking--” and Dowoon abruptly cuts himself off for the exact same reason.

               For the person standing in front of him right now is the same person he took pictures of yesterday, the same person he compares to a Greek god, and the same person who was in the same video he was just about to masturbate to, fifteen minutes ago.

               Young K, in the flesh, outside of a porn shooting, with his white hair parted from the side instead of the middle, and a pair of eyeglasses resting on his nose bridge.

               “You're…” he starts, sounding breathless. “You're Mr Cameraman.”

               Seems like he's staying in the downs of life, after all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- songs in my head during this chapter:  
> \- ["Mundo"](https://open.spotify.com/track/4u8RkgV6P4TLi89SmlUtv8?si=SFBf7oXwR3qOazohXhC4lQ) by [IV of Spades](https://open.spotify.com/artist/4k9wp4ipHdA1bu1T4x1ZTG?si=b6g5NGjPTd-ZqPCc5ekmLQ)  
> \- ["Who's That"](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZszdhuMa7xyedSM1tULbP?si=keXj-iMRQ027O82qQDm-6w) by [Got7](https://open.spotify.com/artist/6nfDaffa50mKtEOwR8g4df?si=mlfKcm8hQS-nHYryp7dlDg) (specifically, the part where Bambam goes "damn")  
> \- also during the scene where dowoon starts taking photos of younghyun i had to stop myself from laughing because [THIS](http://pm1.narvii.com/6950/c2519a8277bcaca7ec57978bafdf1a16b4a80328r1-500-401v2_uhq.jpg) was the image that kept popping up in my head SADHASKDLJAKD  
> \- also someone freaking end me i couldnt stop laughing when writing down younghyuns profile, karen, this is so stupid youd think i was writing a crackfic but im not i swear to god i am not
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	2. The Fuck’s an Amygdala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw in this one, peeps!!

Dowoon has three choices: (A) somehow convince Young K that he is not, in fact, the person he is looking for; (B) blatantly pretend that he does not, in fact, recognize him and hope against hope that Young K will just dismiss him; and (C) run away in the other direction and sacrifice his soul to become a goddess, which, in fact, was a childhood dream of his, so he'd be hitting two birds with one stone.

               He ends up going with Option A: Attempt To Convince Young K He Is Not Mr Cameraman.

               “Haha, you got the wrong guy!” Dowoon tries to let out a laughter that sounds more amused than panicked. “I can't be this ‘Mr Cameraman’ of whom you speaketh—I've never touched a camera in my entire _life_ —”

               “Isn't that a camera around your neck, right now?” Young K points out, pointing at the device with his index finger.

               _Shit. Option B: Pretend You Don't Know Him._

               “Oh, wouldja look at that!” Dowoon laughs again, feeling metaphorical buckets of sweat waterfalling his head. “I didn't realize I had the darn thing on me, haha—the old noggin’ just doesn't seem to be workin’, ha! _Ha_! Either way, hyung, I don't recognize you, so I guess this must all be a misunderstandi—”

               “You just referred to me as ‘hyung’, though,” Young K says with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “And I’m pretty sure I've never told you my age, so that means you searched me up and found out I’m older than you, born in 1993. … Which means you probably _also_ know that I am a Korean bisexual male, who can do almost anything depending on how I like it.”

               Dowoon stares at him. Younghyun stares back. A cat jumps down from a wall, maybe out of curiosity.

               Dowoon abruptly turns around and sprints away—

               The collar of his jacket gets yanked back and he almost chokes from it, the owner of the hand effectively stopping him in his tracks.

               “Nope,” Young K says, popping the P. “There will be no running from you.”

               “Fine, fine!” Dowoon says as Young K lets go of him, adjusting his jacket to Normal. “I’m Mr Cameraman!” He groans as he finishes patting himself down to Regular. “God, would it kill you to let me pretend as if I don't know you?”

               “It probably would, fun fact.” Young K smiles at him, amused, crossing his arms again. Dowoon just glares at him, finding him to be completely annoying at the moment. “Why _do_ you want to pretend as if you don't know who I am, Mr Yoon Dowoon-ssi, twenty-four years old, and first-time photographer for a porn company?”

               “Ugh.” Dowoon groans, rolling his eyes and wanting to cover his face with a palm. God, he is going to kill his past self for giving this guy that information. “Look, I never meant to be the photographer for that photoshoot, okay? I was in desperate need of money! And I _told_ you—porn isn't exactly my thing.”

               “You searched my name, though.” Young K shrugs. “So that means  porn _had_ been your thing, at least for five seconds.”

               “I was just curious!” Dowoon flails his arms around, feeling his face heat up from both the embarrassment and the cursed images that are now haunting his mind. “Besides, nothing on your stupid profile was anything I was interested in, anyway—”

               Dowoon doesn't see Young K’s raised eyebrow as he continues, “—so, ex _cuse_ me, if I want my history of making _one_ set of masturbation photos of a guy I don't even know to be erased from my entire life! Pornography isn't exactly something people usually put in their portfolio, you know—the least you have is erotica!”

               Young K starts chuckling at that and Dowoon is made to look at him with an annoyed furrow in his eyebrows.

               “Alright, alright, I get it,” he says, still chuckling at Dowoon. “You don't want to be associated with an underground pornstar and wanna pretend you're still a proud contender of societal norms.”

               “And making my mother know that I have not disappointed her in any way.”

               “That, too.” Young K uncrosses his arms to put a hand on his hip, adjusting his eyeglasses and still smirking at Dowoon. “So, what are you doing, bumping into pretend-strangers and caressing your camera like it’s a baby?”

               Dowoon caresses his camera like it's a baby _away_ from Young K. “I was just on my way to the children's park,” he answers, wondering why this guy is even asking. Or why he’s even answering. “I was just gonna take some photos there. It's where I usually go when I wanna relax.”

               “Yeah, I think you mentioned something about taking pictures of nature and sceneries.” Young K nods. “You a professional photographer?”

               “A _freelance_ photographer, yeah, though nowhere near professional,” Dowoon answers. “I usually just take photos here and there and enter them into contests, or submit them to magazines and see how things go. Normally, I survive off of my part-time jobs.” _Why am I telling him all this?_

               “The thing that happened yesterday a rare occurrence?”

               “The thing that happened yesterday an _unwanted_ occurrence.”

               Young K chuckles again at that. “You really don't want to even think of that, do you.”

               “To be honest, I’d rather pretend it never happened.”

               Something flashes in Young K’s eyes but it leaves as soon as it came, a smile replacing it, plastered on his pretty face perfectly.

               “Alright, then.” Young K nods before moving past him. “Let’s go.”

               “Huh? What?” Dowoon asks, turning to him. “What do you mean, ‘let’s go’? Where are we going?” _Why am I not saying, “No, I don't wanna go with you”?_

               Young K turns to him, looking over his shoulder.

               “You said you were going to the children's park, right?” he asks. “So, let’s go. I got nothing better to do—plus, I know a shortcut.”

               Dowoon furrows his eyebrows. “But why are you—”

               “Come _on_.” Young K grabs Dowoon’s arm gently, not a single piece of skin coming in contact with another, and grins at him. “It’s a better view than where you were planning on going. Trust me.”

               It’s an odd request to make, considering that the person asking it is a complete stranger and that Dowoon has literally told said person that he doesn't want to be associated with anyone like him for the rest of eternity.

               Yet Dowoon finds himself saying okay anyway and finds himself following Young K as he leads him by the arm through a path he has never been before. One that's narrow, and cramped, and is probably illegal to enter, and which Dowoon almost trips over one too many times.

               But it's a path where trees with purple leaves provide shade overhead, and a path where the rocks on the side of the wall reflect the few sunlight that passes through the branches, and a path where Young K catches Dowoon before he falls every time, grinning down at him with beautiful eyes.

               And Dowoon finds himself taking a picture of the scenery, maybe more than once or twice.

 

“You really know all the weird parts of this city, don't you,” Dowoon says, looking into his camera as he stands in front of a wooden bench, checking to see if he brought his extra battery.

               “How else was I able to come contact with you, Mr I-Wanna-Forget-About-My-Past-Mistakes-And-Pretend-I’m-Still-Normal?” Young K says behind him, sounding sleepy. “I promise you—it’s a talent.”

               Dowoon turns around him to send a glare at Mr Underground Fuck Boy over there, who's sitting by the end of the bench with both his palms pressed onto the wood, looking as if he could fall asleep right then. It’s infuriating how such an annoying person could look so ethereal under the light of the sun seeping through the branches of the cherry blossom tree above him, as if the world was telling him, “Who cares if you're a pornstar? You're beautiful, and that's what matters.”

               (Not that Dowoon thinks that; of course not.)

               “Well, I hope you have a talent for staying quiet, because I need to concentrate while taking pictures,” Dowoon says, putting his eye to the camera and finding that he needs to adjust the focus setting.

               “All you need is to stand and push a button—what do you need to concentrate for?” Young K asks behind him.

               “I said _shush_.”

               “Technically, you didn't _exactly_ say, ‘Shush’ —”

               “I said _SHUSH!_ ”

               Young K just shrugs at that and leans his back against the bench, closing his eyes and looking as if he really is about to fall asleep, right then and there. Dowoon just rolls his eyes at that, turning away to focus on his work.

               It’s kind of unbelievable that he's hanging out with Young K right now. You’d think that after declaring his absolute dismissal of anything related to him and his line of work _plus_ his complete insatiable desire to not be associated with it, he'd push away all opportunities for that very same thing to happen. And he most certainly thought he would. He was certain that he would never ever meet that stupidly gorgeous Greek god of a man ever again.

               But here he is, standing at the edge of the children's park with a camera in his hands, a half-asleep pornstar sitting on the bench behind him, and about a million questions sent to the world all along the lines of, “Why did you guys think this was a good idea?” And frankly, Dowoon thinks the simulation might be broken.

               It’s just so weird, hanging out with him after the literal fiasco that happened around twenty or so hours prior. Seeing him out here in the open with a different hairstyle and a new pair of eyeglasses sitting on his nose when Dowoon literally saw Little Young K and how Big Young K kept tickling Little Young K, and I have no idea why Dowoon is wording it like this, but this is where we are right now and we are sticking to it.

               It’s surreal, seeing this new side of him. One where he isn't naked, or having sex, or being taken pictures of while naked and having sex. Dowoon never thought he could ever picture him in any other context than what he saw of him online. And he guesses it's because that's all he ever knew him to be, granted he's only known his existence for twenty or so hours.

               But he finds his presence comforting, oddly enough, and finds that he doesn't really mind having him around like this. Especially that he's fallen asleep now and therefore cannot torture him with any of his teasing remarks nor any of his heart-wrenching smolders. And when he held onto Dowoon’s arm as he lead him through that alley…

               Dowoon can't deny the way his heart fluttered because of it.

               He's just so different from the person he saw yesterday… then again, maybe not quite. Because similar to how helpful and accommodating he was yesterday, he teased him a lot today, but when he held his arm, he was very much like a gentleman. Dowoon’s jacket sleeves were pulled up almost to the elbow, but he saw the way Young K checked before grabbing the part where sleeves covered skin. And his grip was so gentle. It was like he was just telling Dowoon where to go, rather than pulling him there. And Dowoon followed him with almost no hesitation, finding nothing about him that would make him run away.

               Dowoon can't help the way his heart is slowly, slowly leaning towards him. But he knows he can't just get swept away by his feelings like this. He's only known Young K for a day, and frankly, if that website was any indication, there must be about a thousand things about him that Dowoon doesn't know yet. And what if one of them is a dealbreaker? Dowoon can't deal with a broken heart like that. He won't. He's protected his heart for so long; he can't just let some random guy take it and crush it between his fingers, no matter how pretty his hands are.

               His first love should be someone special. And right now, Young K is anything but.

               So, he finally finishes adjusting the settings on his camera and looks through the lenses, jumping into a new world.

               The children's park is the most beautiful place on Earth—at least, in Dowoon’s eyes. The part they're in right now is the one without all the swings, seesaws, or slides, just the trees dipped in purple paint trying to color the wind, the light seeping through the branches like a sieve, and the brown, round-like birds who sit on the branches and ruffle their feathers every once in a while.

               Down on the ground are flower bushes painted pink and orange, with a background of green underneath, short black metal fences that line the air with the usual bouncy path a rabbit takes, and gray cement that accentuates the pastel chalk drawings of the children who come over from the other side. It’s the place that Dowoon has always loved to be in, ever since their family moved here from Busan. The one place that gave him comfort in an unfamiliar one.

               And now, Dowoon's favorite place in the world.

               He takes a picture of his favorite place in the sky, one where purple paint is splattered alongside drops of brown, white, and light blue. He captures a newly blossomed friend in all its blushing glory, a bit warm from waking up this noon. He frames a photo of two lovers sharing each other’s warmth as they watch the world below them. He etches into his memory a dusty, pastel family where the daughter says, “I love Mama and Papa!” in a messy, scribbly drawing.

               Seeing all these and being able to preserve them in just a single device is what makes Dowoon loves photography—to be able to capture in one single moment something that the eyes can see perfectly, but not remember as they exactly had been. Where the mind can forget, memories can be relived through one, single photo, reminiscing exactly what had happened that day and finding warmth seep through your heart because of it.

               And as he looks down at the photo of the drawing of a little girl’s love for her family somewhere in the world, he finds a smile widen his face as he think of his love for _his_ family: his mother, his father, his sister, his grandparents. Thanks them for introducing him to this place when all he ever wanted back then was to leave the city and go back to his province. Who knew that he would end up falling in love with something he never thought he could? But that's the wonderful thing about life, he guesses. Where change really does change everything.

               The children's park is a place that serves to be his source of comfort. Where in days that seem so endlessly tiring, this park is what gives him the energy to hold on. Reminding him that life can still exist in a place where people seem to want nothing but to destroy. Where nature can still flourish in the city of smokes and vices, where light can still exist amongst darkness.

               He wants his life to be exactly like this place. His most favorite in the world.

               He hears a rustle in the background and turns to see a part in the bushes ruffling much more aggressively than the others, which are moved because of the wind. He squints his eyes at it, wondering what is making it move—

               A figure suddenly leaps out and Dowoon is about to brace himself—

               When he sees that's it’s nothing but a cute, black cat.

               Cue the collective _“AWWW.”_

               Dowoon finds an even bigger smile spread across his face as he crouches down to greet the cat, which looks up at him and gives him a look that is paired with both disgust and contempt. _Ethereal_.

               “Hey, there, little guy—or girl. Or, you know, whatever you identify with.” Dowoon shrugs with a smile. “You might be a dog soul in a cat body—who knows, right?”

               The cat continues to stare at the lowly peasant of a human, and Dowoon gushes. God, he misses his pets back in Busan.

               “Would it be alright to take a picture of you?” he asks, gesturing to his camera. “It's such a rarity to find such a beauty like you, and I just can't pass up the opportunity to capture your graceful essence.”

               The cat says nothing, and Dowoon squeals internally, taking it as a yes.

               Slowly, he readies his camera, as not to scare the little guy (or girl, or whatever it identifies with—possible dog) and takes a few photos, all in the same angle and position yet each one more beautiful than the next because of the subject he's taking.

               Through the lens, Dowoon catches the cat suddenly turn to look in another direction, its ears perked, and before he knows it, it's bolting across the park, called by whatever force of nature decided it needed it.

               “Aww, wait, come back! I still haven't captured your essence!” Dowoon ends up calling, following the direction of the cat with his camera as he stands up, considering chasing after it.

               But by the time he started to jog in its direction, the cat had already jumped over the fence and disappeared to do its catly duties. So long, you majestic piece of nature.

               And by the time the cat is gone, Dowoon's steps start to falter to a stop, something else appearing in his camera view and taking his whole attention right with it.

               A man sitting on a bench, with both his palms pressed on the wood. Chin slightly tilted as he slowly falls asleep. Hair parted sideways, eyeglasses atop his nose. A slightly red tint seeping into his cheeks as the light of the day warms him up like a blanket draped over his shoulders. A set of black eyelashes resting on top of those cheeks, eyes in a close, eyes seeing sweet dreams.

               The word “beautiful” etched perfectly in his memory.

               And before he knows it, he's already pressing down on the shutter of his camera, capturing the essence of the most beautiful person in the universe.

               And then the most beautiful person in the universe opens their eyes and Dowoon finds his camera jumping from his fingers, which scramble to juggle it so it won't drop to the ground.

               “Dowoon-ssi,” Young K starts in a drawl, “did you just take a picture of me?”

               “N- _no!_ ” Dowoon splutters, feeling his entire body go red, red, red as he finally clutches his camera to his chest, the device now safe and sound. “I was just—just—th-there was a cat just now, and I was taking a picture of it, but it ran away and ended up in your direction, and I wasn't  able to take another photo because you blocked it—thanks a _lot_ , by the way!”

               Dowoon immediately whips his body around at that, turning away to hide his internal turmoil. He ends up shifting his feet a little, eyes rapidly moving around as he tries to calm himself down, before he puts his eye to his camera and tries to take a picture of the trees again.

               He finds that his camera is upside-down and hastily turns it back the right side up.

               God, he is such an idiot, sometimes. Why did he even take that photo in the first place? There must be a thousand guys more beautiful than Young K is… okay, maybe there isn't. Still, when is there _ever_ going to be a day where he isn't going to embarrass himself in the presence of this man? Well, no matter. Dowoon's sure that Young K probably just thinks he's weird and must be completely convinced that he absolutely did _not_ take a picture of his gorgeous, hot bod—

               “So, how do you take a picture?” asks Young K’s deep, deep voice right next to his left ear.

               Dowoon would've screamed his ears off and jumped to the heavens if it weren't for the hand that placed itself on his shoulder before he could so.

               “No need to panic; it’s just me,” Young K says, face so, _so_ close to his.

               _I think that the problem is that it_ is _you_ , Dowoon bitterly thinks, trying to calm his heart down.

               Younghyun removes his hand as he continues, “You kept giggling the entire time you took pictures of the entire place. Is it really all that fun to do?”

               _Shit, he saw that? Better put my guard up around him more… not that I’m ever gonna be around him more, anyway._ “Well, I don't know about you, but when I take pictures, it's like squeezing a certain memory into one single photograph,” Dowoon says, turning to his camera. He's about to show Young K one of his photos when he realizes the last one he took was of him. _Dodged a bullet right there, phew._ “And when I look at one of my photos, it's like looking back on my memories.”

               Young K hums at that, the vibration sending tingles across Dowoon’s neck. _God, let me_ breath _._ “Don't you have your brain for that? You know, with your amygdala, and all that?”

               _The fuck’s an amygdala._ “The fuck’s an amygdala?”

               “One of the parts in your brain that's responsible for memory.”

               _How the fuck does he know this?_ “How the fuck do you know this?”

               Young K shrugs. “I was into biology back in high school.”

               _Weird flex, but okay._ “Well, I don't know about that, but no one has a perfect memory,” Dowoon says, looking at him. “Sometimes, we think we remember things well, but when we ask a friend or look back on a photo, we find out it was completely different than what we remembered it to be. So, it's good to take pictures, so you could preserve things just as they exactly were.”

               Young K tilts his head at Dowoon a little. “Is it really that important to preserve things _exactly_ as they were?”

               Dowoon frowns at that, wondering why he's asking this sort of question. “Of course. How else can you remember?”

               Young K looks at him for a second, before nodding and turning to his camera. “Teach me how to take a picture, then. I've always been the person people take pictures of; I wanna know what's it like behind the lens.”

               And Dowoon does, for some reason finding no reluctance in doing so. As Young K keeps his head over Dowoon's shoulder, listening to Dowoon explain the basic parts of a camera, there's a little voice in the back of his mind asking him, _Why are you doing this? You're making no sense. There's no reason!_

               And the little voice is right. There is no reason. But Dowoon is doing it, anyway. For whatever reason it may be.

               “—and if you turn this part here,” Dowoon is saying as he holds onto the lens, “it zooms in and out, like so.”

               “Huh,” Young K says, sounding mildly impressed. “So, if I want to make a micro dick look big, I should just zoom in?”

               _This fucking—_ “I swear to god—”

               But then laughter pulls up Young K’s face as Dowoon turns right in time to meet it, finding his voice cut off, mesmerized by it. When he laughs, his face scrunches up. When he laughs, he shows his bare teeth. When he laughs, his eyes close shut.

               But they're still so beautiful.

               “I’m just teasing,” Young K says, opening his eyes and letting his laughter lilt down to a smile on his face. “You're a really good teacher.”

               He reaches a hand out, and Dowoon sucks in a breath, half-expecting something to happen, but then his fingers grab onto his camera, and suddenly, the device is slipped out of his palm, skin brushing barely onto skin.

               “So, what should I take a picture of?” Young K asks, now standing on his right side a little to Dowoon’s front. “What does the chef recommend?”

               Dowoon rolls his eyes at the (totally not cute) joke. “Anything you want,” he says, crossing his arms. “Find something you think is pretty, and it'll make for a beautiful shot, even if you take it weirdly. Sometimes the subject makes the picture beautiful, even though the actual quality of the picture itself is poor.”

               Young K nods his head with his bottom lip jutting out in a “Okay, mom” expression and puts the camera into position, actually not looking awkward at all, for someone who's never held a DSLR before in his life.

               Dowoon watches as he directs the camera to the trees above him and watches as he readies his finger to press on the button.

               Then, he pauses for a bit, and directs the camera down.

               Right where it faces Dowoon.

               And presses.

               And Dowoon watches as Young K lowers the camera from his face, the world in slow motion, Dowoon's lips parted in surprise.

               Young K’s lips curved up in a smile, as he stares right at the subject before him, eyes looking straight at him, eyes so beautiful.

               “You're right,” he says, not even looking down at the camera, “it does make for a beautiful shot.”

               Dowoon wonders which one of them should be saying that: Young K—

               Or him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I just frickin realized that i do not have enough knowledge on photography or cameras to write this fic why am i even doing this  
> \- Songs in my head this chapter:  
> \-----“Kathang-isip” by Ben&Ben (during the part when younghyun spoke into dowoons ear)  
> \- ~~also ill be editing the formatting soon once i get on the lappy toppy~~ **finally edited!!**


	3. A Drama More Interesting Than Game of Thrones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw in this one, peeps, either!! tho we're getting there ;)

“So, who’s your girlfriend?” Jaehyung asks Dowoon, downing a spoonful of Fruit Loops into his mouth.

               Dowoon looks up at him at that, fingers in the middle of pressing the “DELETE” button on his camera.

               “Um, what?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows and wondering what on Earth is he talking about.

               “Or maybe boyfriend?” Jaehyung asks, eating another spoonful. “Significant other, if they don't follow all that gender crap.”

               “Hyung, _what_ are you talking about?” Dowoon asks, putting a hand up and feeling genuinely confused. “I don't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or a significant other, or any of _that_ crap.”

               Jaehyung swallows down his cereal, looking at him with a scrunched-up face. “Then, who's been texting you these past few days non-stop as if they're always checking if you're still alive or not?” he asks. “And don't say your mom because she calls, not texts.”

               Dowoon furrows his eyebrows. “‘Who's been texting me these past’…”

               Then, he widens his eyes, finally understanding who Jaehyung is talking about.

               He shoots up from the table and pushes his chair behind him with an ear-piercing _SKREEE!_

               _“Holy fucking SHIT,_ ” Dowoon yells, feeling a thousand fucking toddlers creating chaos in his cacophony of a mind.

               For the person Jaehyung is talking about is no other than motherfucking Young K, twenty-six years old, bisexual, male, the person he took pornographic photos of half a week ago, and the person whom he’s been chatting with ever since.

               The day they had chanced upon each other on Dowoon’s way to the children’s park, Young K had asked if they could exchange phone numbers—which was already a big question-mark inducer in Dowoon’s big-ass head.

               His _number_? Why the fuck did he want his _number_? Did he want to keep it just in case the people at the company want Dowoon back, for some reason? But they already have Dowoon’s email. And Dowoon was never going to accept an offer like that, regardless of what reason.

               Dowoon had ended up staring at Young K with about a million _“???”_ in his mind before he could even answer, too perplexed by the question to properly respond.

               And Young K noticed that, immediately retracting his statement.

               “Yeah, sorry,” he said, chuckling a bit and lifting a hand to scratch his neck. “Don’t wanna be associated with me, and all that, right? ‘S okay, I get it. See you, then.”

               And the moment he turned away, Dowoon immediately felt his mouth move before his mind could work, as if both his mind and heart shut down, his body taking in the reins.

               “W- _wait_!” he shouted, taking an instinctive step forward.

               And Young K turned around, surprised, putting them in a position where they were only two inches apart from each other, just a lean in away before they would k—

               “ _Ahhh_ , here’s my number, just take it, please, just take it!” Dowoon immediately said, taking his phone out and pulling up his contact number from his list.

               Young K stared at him, blinking.

               “Now, I feel bad for wanting your number,” he says, keeping his own phone protected against his chest.

               “Ugh, just—gimme that.”

               Young K handed Dowoon his phone after unlocking it, and Dowoon sent himself a message before sending Young K a message from his own phone. He gave Young K his phone back.

               “There,” he said, “now we have each other’s phone numbers.”

               And Young K raised an eyebrow at him, a combination of questioning and amused.

               “Is it always difficult to get something out of you?” he asked.

               “Please,” Dowoon said, thinking about his mother’s difficult labor (thank you for your hardship, Ma), “I was difficult from the start.”

               Ever since then, the two of them had been exchanging texts over the course of these past four days, talking about whatever, whenever. It’s usually Young K who starts the conversation, with a “yo you would never believe what happened today”, or a “this thing kinda looks like you”, or a photo of either the sky, some miniscule detail that not even Dowoon would notice, or Young K himself, waving at him and sending him a “good morning” or “finally getting home from work, jealous?”

               (Despite being an underground pornstar, for some reason, Young K’s day ends at four in the afternoon whereas Dowoon’s ends at fuck o’clock in the evening. He is _not_ jealous; he is _not_.)

               And Dowoon would always reply with a “did you finally become a person with a decent personality”, or a “if it’s sad and looks like it’s lost all hope in life, then yeah, that’s me”, or a “not so much good morning with you the first thing i see”, or “no i am NOT shut UP”.

               Dowoon found himself replying almost instantly the moment he noticed that another message from Young K popped up on his notification panel, wanting to give him a snarky comeback as soon as it popped in his head. Found himself checking on his phone every five minutes just to see if Young K saw his message or not. Once he even found himself checking and re-checking the wi-fi when Young K didn’t respond for a while, until he noticed that he didn’t even send the message, and ended up burying his face in embarrassment as the usual _ping!_ immediately sounded after.

               It felt exactly as it did when Dowoon hung out with him at the children’s park a few days ago. That weird, surreal feeling of seeing such a different side to a person you thought only had one. I mean, Dowoon witnessed Young K touch his _dick_. On _camera_. _His_ camera. No amount of holy water is going to purify the lens of his most precious baby and make it forget all the horrors it has seen. And Dowoon has apologized to it _so_ many times. _So_ many.

               But just like last time, Dowoon found himself not minding it, finding the presence of Young K a bit… comforting. Just a bit. Like he was a long-time friend of his, though Dowoon was sure they weren’t _actual_ friends. _Somewhat_ friend-like, maybe. A _wannabe_ friend. A _faux_ friend, if you will.

               Dowoon found himself anticipating Young K’s next text like the chapter to his favorite fanfiction getting updated at 7 PM KST the next day. Found himself having to push down a grin when Young K said something funny. Found himself having to push a giddy feeling down when Young K said something borderline flirty that he had to remind himself, “Do not get a crush on a pornstar, do not get a crush on a pornstar, do not get a crush on a pornstar”. And yet, for some reason, the giddiness just wouldn’t go away.

               Of course, he’s never gonna let Young K _know_ that he’s having these sparks of feelings for him. Judging by his teasing nature, he’s probably going to make fun of him for it and never let him live it down. Also, _hello?_ That thing where Dowoon said he was going to make sure his first love was a special one? Having Young K as his first is going to be a _nightmare_! He wants to be cuddled, and caressed, and _not_ have that porn-making job mentioned to him every five seconds, just because he likes seeing Dowoon react so strongly about it. And that video he watched of Young K being loving to that woman? That was scripted. It had to be. And Dowoon doesn’t want a scripted love.

               So, all he’s letting himself do is talk to him. Reply to his texts. Feel giddy and annoyed at him but not anything more than that. He’s going to preserve his heart, just like he preserves those happy memories. Never to be ruined by anything, and certainly, not by him.           

               ‘Course that doesn’t erase the fact that Dowoon doesn’t want anyone to _know_ about him. And now that his roommate seems to know _so_ much, well—

               It’s just complete hellfire right now, isn’t it?

               “Oh, so you _are_ aware about this person,” Jaehyung is saying to him now after his outburst, Dowoon’s palms still pretty much on the surface of his table and his chair still very much fallen over on its side.

               “How the _fuck_ did you find out?” Dowoon almost screeches. _Shit, how much does he_ know _? His friend is from that company, right? If hyung knows who Young K is—_

               “Person sent you this text that read something like, ‘Took a picture of two birds humping’, or something, blah, blah, blah, and then a winky face,” Jaehyung answers, wincing and putting a hand to his ear. “Whoever this person is, they have a really weird way of flirting.”

               Dowoon feels his nose flair, absolute livid. _“YOU'VE BEEN READING MY TEXTS?”_ he actually screeches this time, hands gripping on the poor table like he's about to carry it and smash it to the ground. _At least he doesn’t seem to know I’ve been talking to a pornstar._

               “It pulled up on your notification panel when I borrowed your phone!” Jaehyung protests, putting his hands up. “And you know me—when I see a notification, I gotta swipe it off or else it’ll bother me for weeks.”

               “What?” Dowoon furrows his eyes, confused. “When did you borrow my phone?”

               “Yesterday—when my phone suddenly went to zero when I was in the middle of a tweet. What—did you think I _wouldn't_ find a way to send it? My followers deserve my words of wisdom, thank you very much.”

               “But my phone was locked! How do you even know my password?”

               “Oh, _please_ , I’ve known my entire life.” Jaehyung dismisses him. “You go back and forth between your birthday, your mom’s birthday, and your pets’ birthdays. It’s not that hard to figure out.”

               “Ugh,” Dowoon groans, hating how easy he is to read when it comes to Jaehyung. He’s gonna have to get a new password—

               “Don't even think about it; I know your photography professor was born on January 23, 1989,” Jaehyung says, now sipping on his milk and not even looking at him. “Get over him already; he's a married man.”

               “ _I was never into him in the first place_ ,” Dowoon hisses, now scratching that option away. “Anyway, _stop_ borrowing my phone without my permission.”

               “No promises,” says Jaehyung simply, now finished with his breakfast. “So,” he prompts, turning to him, “you gonna tell me about the person you're seeing?”

               _Ugh._ He was hoping for Jaehyung to drop that subject. “I’m not seeing _anyone_ ,” Dowoon says, exasperated. “It’s just a—” _Friend? Stranger? Acquaintance? … Person I took pornographic pictures of during that job you made me take?_ “—he’s just some guy whose number is saved into my phone,” Dowoon settles. _Nailed it._ “Practically a nobody.”

               “A nobody whom you have a nickname for in your contact list?” Jaehyung raises an unconvinced eyebrow.

               “Ugh, you saw that, too?”

               “It isn't exactly difficult to spot ‘Annoying Asshole’ among all your ‘Park Jaehyung’s and ‘Kim Yugyeom’s,” Jaehyung says. “You even have your mom’s full name saved; not even ‘Eomeo-nim’.”

               “It’s for security measures so hackers wouldn't immediately know which one is my mom!” Dowoon puts his hands up. “Why is a nickname so important, anyway?”

               “Because it shows you're giving this guy special treatment, and knowing how much of a tsundere you are, ‘Annoying Asshole’ is practically ‘Love of My Life’. You revealed he was a guy, by the way; you suck at keeping secrets,” he adds after a pause.

               “Ugh, you are unbelievable.” Dowoon puts his hands up, done with this, done with everything.

               “At least tell me how you met this guy,” Jaehyung persists. “Just so I know that my baby brother-in-law is not, in fact, hanging out with a creep. Or a serial killer. Creep O’ Serial Killer.”

               “That doesn't even make sense grammatically.”

               “Excuse you, whicheth of us twoeth is the English majoreth?”

               “You only got high grades because you’re from LA.”

               “And you’re not letting me know about your boyfriend because you're in denial.”

               “Ugh!” Dowoon can never beat Jaehyung in _anything_. “First off, he's not my boyfriend, and second, I just know him from... work. Not even _that_ well—we've only hung out once.”

               “Oh, so you _have_ gone on a date.”

               “It wasn't a _date_ —we just went to the park.”

               “Which is the perfect place for a date.”

               “It wasn't even planned! We just bumped into each other, and he told me he knew a shortcut to get to the park, and I took some pictures, and I taught him how to take pictures, and he took a picture of me!”

               Jaehyung stares at him with two raised eyebrows and an “mhm” expression on his face.

               “Wooow, you're _really_ doing a good job of convincing me that wasn't just the most sappy and romantic set-up for a date I have ever heard,” he says, sarcastically.

               Dowoon can't deny that either; he really can't. “Look. Point is, hyung, he is not a serial killer, he is not my _boyfriend_ , and he only texts me because he's bored. And the only reason why _I_ text him _back_ is because I pity him and his sad, lonely life.”

               “Have fun trying to convince yourself of that, baby boy; it’ll be a drama more interesting than Game of Thrones.” Jaehyung smiles amused at him. “Or Sky Castle.”

               Dowoon crosses his arms. “Are you gonna stop asking me about this now?” he asks.

               Jaehyung looks up in thought. Then, he shrugs.

               “Mm, yeah,” he says, pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Gonna tweet about it, though.”

               “Ugh, as long as you stop pestering me about it.”

               Dowoon moves to turn away, grabbing his camera—

               “Oh, wait! I forgot to give you something!” Jaehyung calls, and Dowoon hears something like the sound of paper being crumpled.

               He turns around to see Jaehyung pulling out something from his jacket hoodie and handing it over to Dowoon. When he takes it, he sees it's an envelope.

               “What’s this?” Dowoon asks, turning it over and reading the address. When he sees the company name, he widens his eyes, just as Jaehyung says,

               “It’s your pay for that job; I already took out your share of rent.” Jaehyung grins. “Have fun explaining that part to your boyfriend; relationships require honesty, you know.”

               Good thing he _already_ knows.

               Not that he's his boyfriend— _nope_.

 

Dowoon is propped down on his bed with his stomach pressing onto his mattress, a pillow underneath to save his old-man back. He's currently on his phone and texting a certain He Who Shall Not Be Named, legs kicking in the air as is his habit.

**Annoying Asshole**

so you were finally able to get your pay? congrats, you must be filthy rich

**Me**

well, on my standards, yeah. this is nearly enough to pay for NEXT month’s rent, tho i am not going to spend it for that, im sure. why is the pay so high anyway, its not like i did a good job on it

**Annoying Asshole**

its probably more on the fact that not a lot of people do it, and that its kinda rare for photographers to show their faces under that kind of company because it kind of ruins their reputation with the general public

pornography IS illegal, you know

**Me**

ugh, i DO know, dont remind me. its why i was kinda hesitant in doing it. at least your company people seemed nice

**Annoying Asshole**

oh, they are. they even make sure that everyone has stage names so none of their real names get revealed, unless they want it to be, and give people the option to not show their faces. course that means less money since most viewers like a pretty face, but at least their safety is intact

**Me**

thats… actually p cool. you know, for a porn company. better than a lot of idol agencies out there thats for sure

**Annoying Asshole**

funny you should say that because i actually wanted to be a singer

 

               Dowoon blinks, surprised at that.

**Me**

woah, really? how did you end up being a porn star?

**Annoying Asshole**

it didnt really work out. luckily i only trained for a few months and never debuted so no one can recognize me if they happen to catch my face online

**Me**

i see

**Annoying Asshole**

mhm

what about you? did you always wanna be a photographer for a porn company?

**Me**

I NEVER WANTED TO BE ONE AND YOU KNOW IT IT WAS ONLY TEMPORARY

**Annoying Asshole**

haha

**Me**

ugh

anyway, tbh i didnt really know what i wanted at first. everyone around me already knew what they wanted to be, so i just ended up getting pulled by the tide and took up engineering

**Annoying Asshole**

oof

hope you were good at math, at least

**Me**

i failed first sem

**Annoying Asshole**

even bigger oof

was it bad

**Me**

it was awful. i just couldnt bring myself to tell my family because they were just so excited, you know? their son was gonna be an engineer, their daughter was already in medicine, their children were gonna have the future they never did

and i just. failed them

it still sucks to think abt it, and i have no idea why im telling you any of this but i just find myself telling you things without thinking about them. idk why but i just do

but anyway during that time when i couldnt think, i ended up looking through one of my old photo albums, you know, before everything went digital. and for the first time i found myself smiling. like really smiling as the memories rushed in, even memories that i had forgotten but then suddenly remembered because i looked at those photos

it made me realize that if there was no one who took them, there wouldnt be any memories to look back on. no photos that reminded me of things i had forgotten. no me looking back on them and feeling happy for the first time in months

it made me realize that i wanted to become someone who could give that same moment to someone else. so that THEY could have memories to look back on. so that when theyre having a hard time, they could look back on the memories and be reminded of the easier days, and that they could have more of those days in the future

sorry for blabbering. its kind of stupid, isnt it? then again im kinda stupid myself, haha

**Annoying Asshole**

no

no, its not stupid. youre not stupid either

its… really nice

im proud of you

dowoon, you there?

sorry did i make you uncomfortable?

we can pretend i never said anything and you didnt say anything and that none of this ever happened

**Me**

no no its

its really

i just

thank you

really. like really, REALLY thank you

it means a lot to me

kind of

i mean

you know

**Annoying Asshole**

oh, thank god

i was worried i mightve crossed a line or something

you ok now tho, right?

**Me**

yeah of course

never been better, actually

**Annoying Asshole**

good. glad to hear it

shit, theyre asking for me i have to go now ttyl

**Me**

sure, get that bread

baguette

**Annoying Asshole**

its with a girl. a ~lady~

**Me**

two baguettes then

**Annoying Asshole**

:O

fuckidnf

ok shit gotta go now bye

**Me**

make sure you butter it up nicely

**Annoying Asshole**

DLSJALSJSLSKLSSK

**Me**

make sure to use a napkin after getting cream all over your face

**Annoying Asshole**

FOR FUCKS SAKE ITS JUST A NUDE PHOTOSHOOHSDLDDP

SKSL

SM

S

               Dowoon cackles at the series of random letters sent to him, obviously by accident. His boss must’ve taken his phone away after calling him repeatedly to get on site; he recalls Young K saying something about a phone ban during one of their chats. So much for “professional”, huh.

               He locks his phone after sending “lmao rip”, turns onto his back to face the ceiling, and presses his phone against his chest, a stupid smile pulling up his face as he relives their conversation. Just for a bit. Just for A _Bit._

               He cannot believe he just told a complete stranger that part of him. Dowoon hasn’t even told _Jaehyung_ about it, and he’s the nearest thing he has to a best friend! Or, rather, _only_ friend. Dowoon isn’t the type to just share these things about him to anyone, and especially _not_ perhaps one of the biggest insecurities of his entire life. It’s a personal thing, and it’s a private thing, and he doesn’t need to tell anyone if they weren’t involved in it, or if it isn’t any of their business.

               Yet he finds himself time and time again telling _Young K_ about these things. Finds the words just slip out of his lips like Dowoon never bothered to dry off the wet floor. It’s the most ridiculous situation because he can’t believe it was _him_ , of all people. But these past few days have been the most ridiculous he’s ever had, so maybe something like this really isn’t far off.

               Shooting a pornographic set of photos for money. Going on a pornographic website for the _first_ time after he got traumatized once during middle school—and almost masturbating, too. Bumping into the guy he took pictures of and having a not-a-date-but-in-hindsight-admittingly-does-seem-like-it in his favorite place in the world. Giving his number to a guy he’s known only for a day and then chatting with him for _five_ —he never even gave any of his high school or college classmates his number, and they were working on an out-of-school project!

               As difficult as it is to admit it, Dowoon can’t deny that Jaehyung had been right: he _is_ giving Young K special treatment. Even in just small things, like this. Even though Dowoon _knows_ to be smarter than this.

               It’s the first time he’s ever letting his emotions get the better of him. And god, are his emotions _strong_.

               And when Young K told him he was proud of him for getting through that fucktard of a first college semester… when he asked him if he was okay now…

               _It’s not stupid_ , he had said, when Dowoon called it that. _You’re not stupid either_.

               Why does he make it so difficult to get over him? Why does he make it so hard to _move_ on?

               Dowoon lets a sigh leave his lips, closing his eyes for a bit. It really sucks that he ended up getting a crush on both the best and the worst person to have feelings for. On one hand, he’s the sweetest, funniest (yet still annoying), and—frankly—hottest person Dowoon has ever met. On the other hand, his line of work is something that Dowoon can’t bring himself to be comfortable with, for whatever reason he deems fit. He’s never actually had the time or opportunity to consider his stance on this sort of thing, as it never really applied to him, but he knows at least that he doesn’t _hate it_ hate it. He knows not to judge people about it, and Dowoon’s sure there must be a logical reason as to why Young K works under that sort of company.

               But to _involve_ himself in that? If Dowoon hadn’t needed the money, he would’ve never even considered it. Hell, when Jaehyung finally gave him the details, he immediately took back his affirmation. And yeah, the people seemed kind and accommodating, but it was still illegal. Even Young K pointed it out, and he’s the one involved in all of this. What does that say about them, a group of people who are aware that they are breaking the law and yet are still doing it?

               Dowoon just can’t wrap his head around this cacophony of a situation. It’s not like he can like _one_ side of a person, yet completely disregard the other. That would be unfair to Young K, wouldn’t it? Unfair to a group of people who should have either _all_ of your sentiment, or _none_ of it. And perhaps some people would be okay with a half-hearted commitment, those people who understand the imperfection of human nature, but not everyone is those people. And Dowoon can’t blame anyone for not being it.

               It’s just—Dowoon just—

               He slams a pillow against his face, burying it into him and cutting of most of his air supply.

               He doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know. He wants to keep talking to Young K, but doesn’t know if he should. He wants to let himself feel all this giddiness for him, but doesn’t know if he can trust himself to just let it stay a tiny spark, containing it so it won’t become a forest fire. And he wants to trust those people, but isn’t sure if he can push through with it, if it means the expense of his own life, reputation, and dignity.  

               It’s a messy subject. One with one too many grays, way too little black and whites. And in a spectrum, the gradients take up most of the color space, the lines too blurry to distinguish what is right, from what is left.

               What is right, and what gets left.

               But perhaps the judgement of one person isn’t enough for this sort of predicament. After all, humans are fickle things, made imperfect and made to make mistakes. Sometimes, signs are necessary to point people to the right path. Or, perhaps, the _wrong_ one. Either way, at least you’re walking with direction. At least, someone out there is guiding you, even if it seems like they’re not helping you at all.

               And Dowoon’s sign came in the form of a _pop!_ sound from his phone, making him open his eyes in a jolt and wonder what on Earth that could be.

               _That was quick_ , he thinks, turning on his phone screen. _Usually, Young K’s shoots last for an hour or more—_     

               Dowoon finds himself widening his eyes when he sees what popped up in his notification panel, lips parting in shock, eyes reading over the text over and over again, just to make sure he isn’t misreading any of it.

               When he finishes, his mind had already been made up.

 

Idle chatter fills the room as the people that occupy it talk about whatever goes on in their lives, bored with having nothing to do as their part of the work has already been filled, the remaining hours just spent on waiting for the others to finish. Some of the people already leave the room as they have more important matters to attend to, or simply because they’d much rather go home. It’s a normal scene in this place, as the thing they do isn’t exactly what most people enthusiastically jump at in public at the mere mention of it—then again, that’s most things in life, isn’t it?

               One such person is currently sitting on one of the chairs by the wall, back pressed onto the cement as people pass him by, some of them stopping by to greet him, most others just leaving him be. He has his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at his phone screen, the light shining up his face just barely, and he ends up putting his phone down with a sigh, looking around him, looking a bit tired. He looks exhausted. He looks done with a numerous amount of things, though that’s just speculation.

               A man in the near distance calls for him, and he looks up bored at the sound of his familiar voice. He lets out an uncommitted response and stands up from where he sat, pocketing his phone and making his way over to where that man is. A group of few people stand near him, but they’re probably only close by proximity. He doesn’t take care to notice them as he walks over, only one face in his mind he wants to look at.

               “Finally putting down your phone, I see?” the man tells him when he sees him, giving him a pat on the back and a grin on his lips. “You’re lucky you’re getting more popular nowadays because of your recent works, or else Jamie-ssi would have kicked you out of the company for good.”

               “I’ve been here for three years—like she’s ever gonna do that.” He shakes his head, crossing his arms. “So, is Terry finally back up? Don’t tell me he’s still sick after two weeks.”

               “He’s just currently taking some bed rest.” The man shrugs. “Man has never been sick before in his life; you’d think he was on his death bed or something.”

               “Well, at least, he’s getting better. He really was a good photographer.” He nods, before prompting, “So, who’s gonna replace him for this shoot, then? You better not bring any more cute cameramen, or else I will personally murder you.”

               “Well, you’re in luck, because the only cute cameraman you are ever going to see is the _same_ one.”

               The man suddenly pulls over one of the people near him and drapes his arm around his shoulder, giving him a cheeky grin.

               And he widens his eyes when he recognizes the person he’s holding on to. Parts his lips when he sees the familiar blush painting that person’s cheeks red. Feels his breath leave him when he realizes why he’s here, what he’s doing here, and what exactly that means for him—and _him_.

               “Introducing your new on-call photographer: Yoon Dowoon-ssi!”

               Dowoon almost crumbles in on himself as the manager announces his name so loudly like that, as if he’s _trying_ to make Dowoon more mortified than he really is. But luckily, the other staff members on-site don’t seem to mind that much; maybe this is just a regular occurence.

               Instead, he focuses on the man standing in front of him, staring at Dowoon and Dowoon alone, as if there was nothing else in the room that could entrance him more, looking breathless and speechless at the mere sight of him, hair parted in the middle like it had been before.

               “... My new on-call photographer?” Young K asks after a while, still staring at him. “ _My_?”

               “Yeap!” The manager nods at him. “Ever since that work he put out of your single-person set of photos started getting more popular about two weeks ago, the higher-ups have been wanting him back because of how good of a work he did. Unlike all our other photographers, this guy right here _really_ had this sort of cinematic theme going on and the viewers _loved_ it—kept saying something about how professional the photos looked. You said you took up Photography in college, right?” he asks Dowoon, turning to him.

               “I, uh, believe so…” Dowoon says, glancing back up and again at Young K and how his gaze hasn’t broken once.

               “And with our most photogenic guy as his main subject to take, we’ll be raking in millions!” The manager lets out a hearty laugh. “Hypothetically speaking, of course. But the sentiment is still there.”

               A sort of tense silence follows after, though the manager doesn’t seem to notice, keeping that friendly grin on his face. Young K keeps staring at him, not having said a word since, and at this point in time, Dowoon can’t tell if he’s angry, or confused, or surprised, or just really doesn’t know what to feel about this.

               But Dowoon swallows down his nerves and takes one single step in front of him, effectively placing himself only a bit closer to him. He looks Young K in the eye and takes in a deep breath, hoping that the red on his cheeks isn’t that obvious.

               “Pleasure to be working with you,” he says, “Young K-ssi.”

               And at that, the familiar, arrogant smirk slowly crawls up on Young K’s face—though with the way Dowoon sees it, another kind of smile is paired right with it.

               “The pleasure,” he says, “is mine.”

               May the sign that was given to him be the right one to hold onto hope for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Fun fact: i never intended for dowoon to have that background story when i first wrote this chapter sksjsk i think they were supposed to talk about their respective works, rather than their aspirations but this is what the story lead to so we are sticking with it  
> \- ALSO EVERYONE LOOK AT [THIS AMAZING GRAPHIC](https://www.deviantart.com/themaleviqueen/art/LENS-801670507) BY [TheMaleviQueen](https://www.deviantart.com/themaleviqueen) ON DEVIANTART BASED ON THIS FIC ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH SADHSAKDJAKJ  
> \- also i know how i usually have that ~professional~ chatfic format but. pls. have mercy on me
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	4. Your Anime Body Pillow Doesn't Count, Hyung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW tags for this chapter: Voyeurism, Light Bondage, Picture-Taking, Someone accidentally turns someone on, Oh and masturbation

A tense sort of silence fills the room as Dowoon and Young K stand on opposite sides of it, the latter by the bedside and the former by the end of it. Both of them have their arms crossed, though with differing reasons.

               “So,” Young K starts slowly, breaking the ice, “you became my on-call photographer… after telling me you no longer wanted to associate yourself with my line of work?”

               At that, Dowoon finally breaks out of his façade, finding himself crumpling his entire body and placing a single palm over his face, feeling his face heat up from the embarrassment of it.

               “Please,” he says, voice muffled, “don’t remind me.”

               The moment they finished their introductions back when they were still outside of the set they're currently in, a moment of awkward silence immediately followed after, by which Dowoon spent most of it thinking, “So… what now?” because prior to that he didn't really think much more than “accept the offer given to you and get to the site as soon as they call you”.

               When Dowoon received the email nearly two weeks ago, he spent a whole ten minutes weighing the pros and the cons, the goods and the bads, the “shit, what the fuck am I gonna get myself into”s and the “fuck, but it’s so worth it”s. He basically had a life crisis back then, at age twenty-four, and saw his entire life flash before him as he realized that the decision he was about to make would literally change his life forever. That nothing was ever going to be the same. That _this_ was his main-character-of-an-anime moment--the tipping point.

               In the end, though, it all came back to just one thing: being able to see Young K again, and on a frequent basis at that. 

               He didn’t exactly know _why_ he was giving in to his weirdly irrepressible desire to meet with that man again, and while he is well-aware of the crush he has on him, normally he’d let his mind make the decisions rather than his heart. But receiving that email made him realize that there would probably never be another opportunity like this ever again, and how could Dowoon bear to have to wait probably a thousand years before meeting someone like Young K again? Someone _that_ fucking hot, _that_ fucking annoying, and yet _that_ fucking sweet, and ~~love~~ like-able, and has such a hold on his heart that Dowoon doesn’t want him to let go? (Not that he’s in _that_ deep; it’s just a crush, after all.)

               So, Dowoon decided to give the affirmative after finalizing his decision for about ten more minutes. Jaehyung had actually peered into his room to ask him something, but when he saw Dowoon staring unblinkingly at his phone with a dark, serious aura surrounding him, he immediately “nope”d away. Dowoon couldn’t blame him.

               Besides, it wasn’t like Dowoon was planning on, like, _hitting_ on Young K or anything. Trying to get into a relationship with him--with anyone, really--is like wishing on a star that’s already dead. All he wanted was to get to know Young K a little more, just a _liiittle_ bit more, and he figured being actually physically around him would let him do that the easiest and most effective way possible. ‘Course, maybe it would’ve been simpler to just _ask_ Young K to hang out with him--but who the fuck are we kidding? This is _Dowoon_ we’re talking about; he isn’t going to reveal to anyone that he’s interested in them and expose the inner workings of his mind. How embarrassing--how _revolting_. Dowoon doesn’t have _emotions_ ; he is but a dark, cold shell more similar to a rock than a human. Asking Young K out was a big no-no. Not for a date, not even for a not-date.

               But agreeing to become the on-call photographer for most of his pornographic media, which gave him an excuse to say, “I came here for _work_ , not for _you_ ”? Yeah, that sounds about right.

               Doing this meant that Young K would have no reason to suspect him of being interested in him specifically, which meant that Dowoon had absolutely nothing to worry about. It was the perfect set-up, the perfect plan, and Dowoon saw things going over as smoothly as butter slides on a table and drops onto one’s foot and they have to bitterly wash their feet while also lamenting the wasted money. (Dowoon is not speaking from experience; he is _not_.)

               Of course, his life wouldn’t be his if it didn’t allow _some_ kind of embarrassing situation to put him in, big or not. So, when Young K and Dowoon stared at each other for way too long than necessary, the world decided to give the third party in their group the instruction to speak up suddenly, saying words that Dowoon definitely would dread.

               “Are you two, like, in a secret relationship, or something?” the manager asked, and Dowoon fucking almost threw his head off whipping it at him, feeling his entire being burn red at the idea of it.

               “N- _no_! Of _course_ not!” Dowoon practically yelled, clutching his camera against his chest as if to let out all the “aaa” emotions out through the force in his grip. “Why would I--how could I--when would I even--”

               But the manager just gave him a pat-pat on the shoulder and a hearty laugh, making Dowoon even more flustered than before.

               “Kidding, kidding!” he said, obviously finding the whole thing amusing. “I know this is only the second time you guys met each other. And from what I've seen, you two are completely professional, though we don't really have any policies surrounding that.”

               “R-right…” Dowoon said, glancing back and forth between him and Young K. He thought about that not-date in the park and the countless times they've chatted with each other. “We're strictly business only…”

               “Welp!” the manager prompted, slapping both of their backs and earning two simultaneous “ow”s. “I’ll just leave you two to it, then. I've already given you both your assignments; you can head on over to Set D over there. And don't forget to lock the door. If you need me, I’ll just be chatting it up with our boss over there.”

               Dowoon watched him walk away to a new group of people, holding a hand up to receive zero high-fives. He greeted one of the women, whose hair was dyed orange, with, “Heya, Jamie-ssi! How's it hanging?” and she replied with, “Kevin, your fly is open.”

               “You'd think he'd stop acting like an overactive teenage boy after they both got engaged,” Young K said to Dowoon as the sounds of mild panic came from the other side, “but then again, it was Jamie-ssi who proposed in the first place.”

               “That explains the engagement ring on his finger,” Dowoon said, still looking. “I was wondering why it said, ‘Get in loser; we’re getting married’.”

               “You were able to read all that?”

               “He dropped his ring and made me get it from under the table.”

               “Classic Kevin.”

               They both turned and stared at each other for a bit more, before they simultaneously moved to walk to Set D, no words between them shared--until they finally reached the situation they are in now, Young K standing by the bedside and Dowoon standing by the end with a face buried in his palm.

               “Well, you can't blame me for mentioning it to you when you never even mentioned _this_ to me,” Young K says in reply, arms still crossed. “Considering you're practically a permanent employee now, and one _I’m_ assigned to, specifically.”

               “It was still an open-ended subject,” Dowoon says, putting his hand down and looking at anything but Young K. “And I didn't really wanna mention anything to you if it wasn't finalized. But today, they called me to go on-set--so I went.”

               Dowoon can feel Young K’s eyes staring straight at him as he hears him hum in reply.

               “So, why, then?” he asks, and Dowoon glances back to see him put a hand on his hip, hair parted in the middle swishing a bit. “I thought you said you didn't want to be near this type of thing ever again.”

               At that, Dowoon’s mind lags, trying to control his mouth to say something other than, “I wanted to see you more often.”

               “W-well… the people were very accommodating when I first did the job,” he attempts, his eyes travelling across the room, unable to look at Young K directly. “And like that Manager-nim said, apparently my work last time was able to help the company greatly, and they seemed to really want me back, so I figured, why not? Plus, the pay’s really good, considering I don't have to do as much as I do on my part-time jobs, so it was really just convenient for me.”

               Young K tilts his head at him, as he seems to be fond of doing.

               “Is that the real reason?” he asks.

               Dowoon tries not to gulp.

               “Of… course it is,” he says, trying to make it sound like he thinks Young K’s stupid for even asking. “What other reason could there be?”

               Young K continues to stare at him a bit more, as if studying him, but then tilts his head back straight up, seemingly satisfied.

               “Alright, then,” he says. “I'll believe you.”

               _Phew. Dodged a bullet there._ “So, let's get to it, then?”

               “Yeah,” Young K says. “Let’s.”

               For some reason, when Dowoon prompted that they start, he somehow failed to connect the nature of their photoshoot and what exactly Dowoon had to take pictures of, so when Young K started to yank his shirt off by the cloth on his back, a thousand red exclamation points suddenly blared up in his head, creating a bloodstream rushing up to his brain and reddening his poor, abused cheeks.

               His hands shoot up to this face before he could even stop himself--as if he really wanted to stop himself in the first place.

               The rustle of fabric stops for a moment as Dowoon keeps his palms over his eyes, skin burning hot.

               “... What the hell are you doing,” he hears Young K deadpan, probably looking at him in the most judging way possible.

               “Um… smelling my fingers?” Dowoon bullshits, sniffing a little to keep his bullshit up. “Yeap. Smells exactly like my sunflower soap.”

               He hears something like skin slapping against skin and imagines Young K face-palming himself, completely done with him.

               “Dowoon, you already saw me naked before--and while _masturbating_ at that,” Young K says, and the way he casually says it is a big contrast to the panicky state of Dowoon's mind as he relives that affair. “Our photoshoot today is a lot more innocent.”

               “Ugh, that doesn't mean I have to watch you _undress_ ,” Dowoon protests. “The entire vibe is a _lot_ more different than seeing someone _already_ naked.”

               “You stared at me while I was undressing last time, though.”

               “I was caught off- _guard_!”

               Dowoon hears a chuckle at that and rolls his eyes behind his open palms; the asshole finally has some new material to tease him with, it seems. But he can't deny that he finds it relieving to hear that breath of laughter; at least, Young K doesn't seem to be angry at him for not telling him about this.

               “Well, you're gonna have to put your hands down sooner or later, or else you can’t do your job,” Young K says as he hears the sound of a zipper being pulled down and jeans sliding off his legs. Now Dowoon isn’t sure if covering his hands and exposing himself to just the audio and his imagination was a good idea.

               “You can put your hands down now,” Young K says after a hot while, and Dowoon does.

               Immediately finding his efforts to be completely futile.

               Because he is now met with (again) the body of Adonis, sculpted so beautifully in all its naked glory that Dowoon has to stop himself from biting his lip, instead clutching onto his camera; the only reason why it doesn't break is because his love for photography transcends the heavens and even further than that. _Damn, I’d forgotten how hot he is._

               Young K notices this (the ogling, not his love for his baby) and shakes his head with a grin, moving over to get on the bed.

               “You really don't know how to keep your eyes to yourself, do you?” he says, and Dowoon snaps out of it. “Find me attractive?”

               He blushes even further at that, following him to the bed. “ _No_ ,” he lies. “I’m… just not used to seeing naked bodies. If it was anyone else, I’d react the same way.”

               Young K hums an “mhm” at that, raising an “oh, really?” eyebrow at that. “And my real name really is Young K.”

               Dowoon glares at him, finding himself to be on the defensive. “Y-yeah, well, _you're_ the one who called me c-cute earlier!” he splutters, recalling the conversation he had with the manager prior, before Young K noticed him. “If anything, I think _you're_ attracted to _me_!”

               Dowoon regrets it the moment he says it, because _fucking hell, Dowoon! Why'd you have to say_ that _?_

               But all there is on Young K’s face is a sly smile and a suggestive look.

               “And if I am?” he challenges, raising both eyebrows. “What are you gonna do about it?”

               Dowoon finds his lips part at that, finding his mind to be blank of thoughts and his mouth dry of words. His brain lags for a few seconds, and with the way Young K sits on the bed in front of him, fully naked and looking at him with the most beautiful eyes in mankind, Dowoon finds Young K’s fingers reaching out to him, just centimeters away from the most precious thing in his chest.

               Then, Dowoon finds himself and figuratively slaps Young K’s hypothetical fingers away from his symbolical heart.

               “T-tell you to get on with this photoshoot--that's what!” Dowoon stutters, turning to his camera and readying it, double-checking the settings.

               Young K chuckles again. “Come here on the bed, then,” he says. “I need you to help me with the rope.”

               “Rope?” Dowoon looks up at that and finds Young K holding up a line of brown rope between his fingers; he probably got it from somewhere in the room, or had it in his pockets prior.

               “We're doing light bondage, remember?” Young K puts the rope down. “Manager-nim said he already gave you the assignment.”

               “To be fair, I didn't know what that meant.” Dowoon climbs onto the bed after checking on his camera, turning it off for the time being. He receives the rope in his hands and looks down on it. _Keep your eyes off his dick, keep your eyes off his dick._ “What am I supposed to do?”

               “Tie it around my wrists; I’m supposed to resemble a hostage.” Young K turns around at that, putting his hands behind him. “You'd be surprised at the amount of people who find that hot--from both sides of the equation.”

               Dowoon finds himself biting his lip at the sight of Young K’s back and ass faced towards him, glad to not have his eyes watch over him like CCTV cameras. It’s so fucking unfair that he gets to be _this_ gorgeous in _all_ angles, while Dowoon gets to be a potato with a patch of grass on his head for hair. _Like Young K could ever be attracted to me_ , he bitterly thinks. _The world is so fucking unfair._

               He wraps the rope around Young K’s wrists and ties it to the best of his ability as Young K gives him instructions, trying to visualize how the binds tied to those actors in those police-themed dramas look like. _Shouldn't be too loose, right?_

               Young K lets out a tiny yelp as Dowoon tightens the rope, making him pause in shock.

               “Not…” Young K starts, sounding a bit pained. “Not _that_ tight, fuck…”

               “Sorry…” Dowoon loosens the rope a little, being careful to not make the same mistake again. When he finishes, he says, “That better?”

               Young K tries to pull away at the binds, but his wrists stay intact and pressed together. 

               “Yeah, this is good.” He looks at Dowoon over his shoulder. “Enough to keep dicks up for days.”

               “Just fucking pose for the camera, you annoying prick.”

               Dowoon looks through the lens and they get to work, Young K turning back to the camera and really getting into character, almost making Dowoon believe he really is being held hostage and wanting to free him from his binds. (Oh, so that's how people get into this.)

               Every pose Young K makes Dowoon’s throat dry just like last time, needing to hold back so many things lest he embarrass himself again. Every look Young K gives him, every desperate furrow of the eyebrow, every tilt of the jaw--just his body alone is enough to make you want to rescue him, save him, free him from whoever trapped him here in the first place.

               But there's something off about it, Dowoon notices whenever he takes another photo and Young K changes position. Something that he can't quite place, like there's something about it that just doesn't seem _right_. Like there's something _missing_. Something that needs to be _done_.

               Dowoon lowers his camera slowly, eyes staring straight at Young K as he studies him, trying to think of a way to make this photoshoot better.

               “Oh, are we done already?”

               Hmm... no, not that. Maybe it’s the angle?

               “Dowoon-ssi? Earth to Dowoon-ssi.”

               Yeah, maybe that's it. Maybe if he just…

               “Dowoon, why are you just staring--”

               Slowly, he reaches a hand out and reaches for Young K’s face, the man freezing at the movement. His fingers cup his jaw and he tilts it up, slowly, just at the right position. He moves his own face closer to his, eyes boring into his, studying him and the way he looks back silently, lips parting as if he’s entranced, for whatever reason he is.

               “... Yeah, this angle is better,” Dowoon says, retracting his hand and reaching for his camera. “Keep your face like that until the next pose.”

               “... Okay,” Young K says after a while, voice breathy for some reason, eyes wider and lips parted for perhaps the same one. “Okay, I will.”

               The photoshoot goes a lot smoother after that, now that Dowoon got a better sense of it. He takes pictures of Young K lying on the bed with his wrists tied above him, takes pictures of Young K bent down in front of the camera like he's begging it to release him, takes pictures of Young K looking so much more desperate than he had before.

               For the latter half of the shoot, Young K had become more enthusiastic for some reason, a lot more into his character. He furrows his eyebrows at the camera and breathes a blur on it on purpose to create an effect, sticks a sinful tongue out as if he's in desperate need of air, and presses the side of his face onto the bed sheets as he looks sideways at the camera, as if there was someone behind him giving everything he wanted, not needing the freedom if the punishment was this sweet.

               And Dowoon finds himself at a loss of breath at everything Young K does, feeling his fingers shake whenever Young K makes an expression that sends a hot wave straight to his abdomen. It's like Young K isn't even acting anymore, like he's in actual desperate need for release, as if whoever is behind the camera is the only one that can give it to him.

               And he does his best to keep his breaths even as Young K’s come out as shaky, face pressed onto the bed sheet as he lets out a low moan. They weren't even supposed to shoot any self-touching for this one, just teasing photos of Young K bound at the wrists.

               But Dowoon finds himself taking pictures of Young K biting at the rope, licking at the rope, and unbounds him himself, creating a new scene completely unintended from the original, of a man who frees himself, but instead willingly locks himself up with whoever took hostage of him.

               He takes pictures of him desperately touching himself as he buries his face in the bedsheets, looking behind him as if someone was pushing in him and giving him as much pleasure as possible. He takes shots of him in the middle of a moan as he does himself just right, breaths and whimpers leaving his mouth. And when he finally reaches his climax, Dowoon captures the exact moment that encompasses such a beautiful scene, one that makes him relish the sound of his drawn-out moan, makes him take one last photo of him staring at the camera just as he did last time, lips parted open as he breathes in his post-climax, looking as satisfied as he must feel.

               Then, Young K’s lips curve up in a tiny smile as he continues staring at him--but not the arrogant smile that Dowoon expected him to give.

               It’s a smile that precedes laughter. A smile that tells Dowoon he's happy. A smile that reassures him that he's okay, that he enjoyed it, that it was good and he liked it and didn't regret it one bit, reaching out a hand to move Dowoon’s hair away from his face, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

               _“You did well, baby, you did well.”_

               Oh, if only.

               Dowoon just takes one last photo, including that smile in it, excluding the hand that never left the bed, and hiding away the wishes his heart made, wondering if he'll ever dream about it, and if so, if it would ever come true.

 

“ _Fuck_ , you are _really_ good at this--holy _shit_!”

               Dowoon keeps a palm on his face as he half-sits on a table with his arms over his chest, not needing this sort of compliment at this time of day after what just happened in Set D over there, which is currently being cleared out by some staff members, all filming finally finished for the day. Young K had been called on by a few people to discuss some important matters.

               Meanwhile, Kevin--the manager that's been mentioned multiple times now--is currently looking over the photos Dowoon just took, via a company laptop which has Dowoon’s SD card stuck in it. 

               “You guys went completely off-tangent with the instruction I gave you, but damn, these are all so good I can’t even complain,” Kevin continues, opening up a picture of Young K lying with his face planted in a pillow, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in a look of pleasure; Dowoon looks away from it, feeling his cheeks burn up at the sight of it. “Especially these later photos--I’m really feeling the photographer-model connection with these ones, compared to the first. You don't mind if we take most of those ones for the final gallery, do you?”

               “I-it’s fine with me, Manager-nim,” Dowoon says, politely. “Whichever you think is best.”

               “Well, it’s clear that _you_ have the best judgment out of all of us, considering we've never had such artistic-looking photos before,” Kevin continues, still checking on the pictures. “People nowadays have really high standards--and this is a _porn_ company. You'd think people would be satisfied with just two people getting it on, but nope! People tend to lean more towards material with _substance_ \--which I guess is good for them, but makes it a lot more difficult for us. Which is why it's great that you agreed to work with us, even if it's just on an on-call basis.”

               _I really only did it to have an excuse to keep seei--_ meeting _with one of your pornstars, but okay._ “Of course, Manager-nim. Glad to help in anyway.”

               Kevin finishes checking the photos out and selects all of it with the keyboard shortcut, transferring the file to a folder named “Young K Gallery” and today's date. It looks like he's just copying the files instead of completely transferring them--which means Dowoon is gonna have to look at them a second time when he's deleting them. 

               “These photos make me wish I was attracted to men; they're really that good,” Kevin says, turning to him as he laments the struggle he’ll have to face later in the day. “You're a really good photographer, Dowoon-ssi; your talent is really commendable.”

               Dowoon finds a small smile appear on his face like that. Funny how only two people in his life have ever said that to him: his photography professor, and now the manager of a porn company. Back when he was in college, he thought those words meant he was going to achieve greater heights, achieve his dreams, and do what's he's been wanting to do ever since freshman year.

               But right now all Dowoon has is two part-time jobs and one underground job as an illegal photographer, doing literally none of the things he dreamt out, none of them having come true.

               Dowoon isn't sure if he's happy with the life he has now, but he receives the compliment with a thank you, finding it warming his heart anyway, despite the context. It's been a while since he's heard those words, and heard them said with such sincerity, so he'll take whatever he gets, determined to turn always to the brighter side of things.

               “Oh, my gosh--hi! You're our newest photographer, right?”

               Dowoon turns away from Kevin to see a complete stranger of a man walking towards him with a confident sway in his hips and a cheery smile on his face. His hair is dyed brown, bouncing with the way he holds himself, and he's dressed as if he just came out of the club; Dowoon wonders if he's usually like this on regular days.

               “Y-yes, that would be me.” Dowoon straightens his back before bowing politely, wondering who this person could be.

               “Aw, you're so polite! How cute.” The man giggles, finally reaching him. “Yoon Dowoonnie, right? I’m Wonpil, twenty-five. Vinnie-hyung here already told me how old you are.”

               “Do not hold it against me; Wonpil-ssi here is great at blackmailing, and I’d rather keep my secrets away from my future wife, thank you,” Kevin says without even looking at them, eyes on the graph on-screen showing the transfer speed rate of the photos.

               “O-oh, I see.” _Blackmail, huh? Hope this interaction doesn't mean anything…_ “N-nice to meet you.”

               Wonpil giggles more at that, and Dowoon suspects he's going to hear more of that laughter throughout this conversation.

               “I’m sure you're wondering why I approached you suddenly,” he says with a smile, clasping his hands together. “You see, I’m one of the--” he giggles again-- “models of this company, and when I saw the work you did with Youngie-hyung, I just _had_ to see you myself.”

               _‘Youngie-hyung’?_ Dowoon echoes in his mind. _Does he mean Young K-hyung?_

               “You see, none of the other photographers in this company even come close to the skill I saw in your work,” Wonpil continues, almost gushing. “I mean, Myeongho-ya has this experimental thing going on, and Terry-hyung is really good technically, but _you_ have this way of completely capturing the _essence_ of your subject in a way that's so artistic and captivating. Like you know _exactly_ what your photos need to express and express it _well_. And when Vinnie-hyung told me you studied Photography in college, I was, like, ‘Duh! Of _course_!’”

               “Again, please, don’t hold it against me; I don’t want to get a divorce before I even get married.”

               “It’s just that when I saw your pictures, and then compared them to mine, I just realized how much of a _waste_ it was to have those people take photos of me this entire time, when _clearly_ \--” Wonpil gestures to all of him at this word-- “I deserve so much better. Those photographers gave me no _justice_. And I cannot believe I had been blind to it for _months_!”

               “O-oh… I see…?” Dowoon says when he thinks Wonpil is waiting for him to respond, his rant pausing for a moment. This guy doesn't seem to have any sense of that fencing period one gets when meeting someone for the first time, but at least he's nice(?).

               Wonpil huffs out a breath, suddenly looking at him with a sense of determination and serious eyebrow. 

               “Look,” he says. “Unlike most people in this company, I came here because I _wanted_ to. Not because I had no choice, or that there were no other options, or because I was in desperate need of something that the other side of this world couldn’t give me. And if I want to be the best, I’m gonna _need_ the best, and right now, the best is you.”

               He suddenly clasps Dowoon’s hands in his own, making him steel for a moment and wondering where this is going.

               “Look, I know that you're _Youngie_ -hyung’s exclusive on-call photographer, as Vinnie-hyung said--” he starts--

               “Again, don't--”

               “ _No_ one is going to hold you accountable for this; it's not even that big of a deal,” Dowoon says to Kevin, effectively shutting him up.

               “--but if you could--and _please_ say you could--would you please be my photographer, too?” Wonpil finishes his request, looking at Dowoon with pleading eyes.

               “ _Your_ … photographer?” Dowoon slowly asks, still wrapping his head around the idea.

               Wonpil nods enthusiastically, hands still holding onto his. “I promise I’m a really flexible (ha, ‘flexible’) person and follow instructions really well. I can do almost anything you ask me to, and since I’m already pretty popular, you don't need to worry about having to carry my ass or anything. I mean--” he giggles _again_ \-- “look at me.”

               And Dowoon does look at him, and Dowoon does admit he's pretty good-looking. He isn't surprised to hear he's popular among the viewers.

               But he doesn't feel anything when he looks at him, at least not as much as when he looks at a certain someone else.

               And Dowoon is pretty much sure the quality of his photos is not dependent on his skill alone.

               Wonpil smiles at him differently suddenly.

               “You don't have to worry about anything,” he says, and Dowoon almost flinches. _Did he just read my mind? Or maybe the look on my face._ “If the extra workload is too much for you, our company will _definitely_ compensate for it financially. And if that's not enough--”

               The smile that stretches his face is almost menacing.

               “I can compensate for you myself,” he says, giving him a suggestive look.

               Dowoon finds his mind lagging at that, face heating up at the idea of what he is implying.

               But before he could respond, a hand yanks Wonpil’s hands away from Dowoon's, feeling his own get enveloped by a familiar warmth.

               “Wonpil,” a familiar deep voice says right next to him, “you just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?”

               And Dowoon turns to see the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he's ever seen, somehow becoming more beautiful with every passing second, and feels his fingers inadvertently intertwine with his, too mesmerized to care right now.

               Young K continues to glare at Wonpil, attention focused on the matter at hand.

               “You can't just throw away all the other photographers just because you don't like their work,” he says. “That's completely insensitive and selfish.”

               “But _hyung_ , it’s not _fair_!” Wonpil whines, sounding annoyed. “You get to have the most talented photographer this company has ever had all to _yourself_!”

               “It wasn't my choice to make,” Young K simply says. “I didn't come up with it either.”

               “That doesn't erase the fact that you have the upper hand--you've _always_ had the upper hand!”

               At that, Young K sighs. “Wonpil, none of that matters--”

               “Well, it does to _me_ ,” Wonpil interrupts him, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “And you know I’m the only one in this company who actually likes the job as is. _You_ never even wanted to do this in the first place.”

               “So? Doesn't mean you can just get close and personal with a total stranger. And I _heard_ your ‘compensation’ suggestion, by the way. You can't use your body to try to convince other people to do your bidding.”

               “It was just a suggestion!” Wonpil puts a hand up. He turns to Dowoon. “Dowoonnie didn't even get to say his ans--”

               He stops just short, staring at the way Dowoon is looking at Young K, having not listened to the rest of the conversation since the man arrived. His eyes fall down to their loosely intertwined hands, then back up at the two of them.

               Then, a scoff leaves his lips, sounding unbelieving.

               “Oh, my god,” he says. “No wonder those pictures were so good.”

               He reaches a hand up to Dowoon’s face and snaps a finger, making him snap back to reality.

               “Wha--huh?” he asks, finally noticing the two faces staring at him. “What were we talking about?”

               “Just how Youngie-hyung is about the luckiest person in the world,” Wonpil says with crossed arms and a glare, “and also the most annoying.”

               “Oh, I can agree with that one; he is so annoying,” Dowoon says immediately, and Young K turns to him with a “really?” expression.

               “The world is so unfair,” Wonpil grumbles, looking sullen for some reason. _What exactly did I miss?_ Dowoon thinks.

               Then, a voice calls out from the distance, “Good work today, Sungjin-ssi, Nayeon-ssi! That's a wrap!”

               And Wonpil's wilted flower immediately goes back to life, turning around and beaming like sunshine through the windows. At a distance, Dowoon spots a group of people leaving Set A, including a woman covered in a jacket talking to another woman, and a man with his hair in a buzzcut.

               “Darling!” Wonpil all but calls out, and the man looks up at that, before making his way over to him in a calm, silent way--though it turns out he doesn't need to, as Wonpil is already running up to him and enveloping him in a tight, tight hug, looking as if he couldn't be happier.

               “Finally, you're finished,” he says as the man wraps his arms around him, too. He grins up at him. “Hope the sex was good.”

               “Please,” the man says in a gruff voice, placing a hand on Wonpil's cheek, “you are way better than anyone.”

               And Dowoon watches them as they lean to kiss each other, the innocent moment quickly turning into something _really_ different.

               A hand covers his eyes when the taller man starts sliding a hand down Wonpil's back.

               “Not good for the children,” Young K says next to him, hand still hovering over his face.

               Dowoon sends him an annoyed glare but turns around anyway, Young K for some reason following the direction of his right hand.

               “I didn't know Wonpil-ssi had a boyfriend,” he says, off-handedly. “He suggested that sort of thing so easily; I could've been a homewrecker.”

               “Well, not quite,” Young K says, shrugging. “Wonpil and Sungjin-ssi are poly. They're each other’s main partner, but they're okay with having sex with other people. Sungjin-ssi literally just came out of that set with Nayeon-ssi, probably to film a sex scene, like he's known for. A lot of the viewers prefer him in straight roles, for some reason, though he is obviously not.

               “Wonpil, on the other hand, often does roleplay photoshoots, dressing up in various outfits and getting into character. Despite what he said earlier, he's actually more popular than me, considering that he's only been here for just a year. He rarely does sex videos with women and only does it with men, as is his preference.

               “But the most popular videos of them are the ones with both of them _together_ , because they have that sort of chemistry that can't be imitated. Even the viewers who like Sungjin-ssi in his usual straight roles like the videos with him and Wonpil in it. You can't really ignore the love they have for each other--which is why their relationships with other people only reach up to the sex, and nothing else. So, you wouldn't really be homewrecking anyone, ‘cause I don't think even they would let that happen.”

               Dowoon hums as he looks back at the two behind him, who are only now just pulling apart when one of the staff members go, “You two! Get a hold on your libido--if you're going to do it, either go home, or use one of the sets!”

               Wonpil sticks his tongue out at them, indignant. “Killjoy! You're just jealous because you've been single since forever!”

               “Excuse you--I've been in a relationship for five years!”

               “Your anime body pillow doesn't count, Chullie-hyung!”

               “Come on, Pil-ah,” Sungjin says, placing a kiss on Wonpil's forehead and pacifying him. “Let's go to Set B; they haven't started clearing it out yet.”

               Wonpil giggles. “Okay!” he says, before calling out to the people around him, “Me and Sungjin are gonna have sex in Set B! If anyone wants to film, you can go straight ahead!”

               And Dowoon watches them as they skip on over with intertwined hands towards the mentioned set, a staff member going, “Ugh, why not. More pay for me.”

               _So, people can still have such a solid relationship even with this, huh…_ Dowoon thinks, finding it a bit surprising. His encounter with this company is really making him question all he knows about this stuff--not that he knew much in the first place.

               “... Well, it doesn't really matter,” Dowoon eventually says, replying to Young K’s statement. “I was never going to tell him yes, anyway.”

               “Oh?” Young K says. “You weren't?”

               Dowoon shrugs.

               “I can only handle so many high-maintenance people in my life.”

               An unbelieving scoff leaves Young K’s lips at that, sounding mildly offended, and Dowoon turns to him with a grin, finding satisfaction in the way he looks at him in pure disbelief.

               “Excuse you, which one of us changes his mind about this whole porn-making spiel like he's deciding which clothes to wear for the day?” he asks, the corner of his lips perked up, incredulous.

               “Oh, yeah? Which one of us texts so often it's like they're always checking if I’m alive or not?” _Thank you, Jaehyungie-hyung, for that one._

               “Which one of us obviously can't admit that they find the other’s body attractive, even though they've been clearly ogling them since day one?”

               “Which one of us is _so_ delusional to think that I could _ever_ be attracted to you?”

               “Which one of us is so in denial to think that you couldn't?”

               At that, Dowoon lags, unable to find a comeback that distracts him from the statement.

               “Wh… which of us is so annoying that they even joked about being attracted to me...?” Dowoon settles, the thought of it the only thing he can think about right now--has been thinking about since they came out of Set D.

               At that, Young K looks at him, eyes serious.

               “Which one of us is so dense that he thought I was joking?” Young K says, tone completely out of jest.

               Dowoon says nothing to that, looking straight at Young K and trying to search for something in his eyes. He doesn't know what he's looking for, but maybe it's because he already found it, in the way Young K smiled at him before, in the way he holds tight onto his hand, in the way Dowoon still pretends not to notice it.

               He moves, just a centimeter--

               “WOO! BEST SEX _EVER_!”

               Dowoon whips his head to see Wonpil and Sungjin come out of Set B, the staff member who joined to film them coming out last and looking traumatized.

               “But you've only been there for five minutes?” one of the staff questions, sounding confused.

               The staff who filmed the two of them looks at the second gravely. “No,” they say, with a shake of the head. “They've been there for _hours_.”

               And Dowoon uses this distraction to yank his hand away from Young K, turning away from him and feeling his face burn up.

               “A-anyway, I should get going,” Dowoon says, grabbing his camera and the SD card sitting neatly on top of the closed laptop; Kevin must've left a while ago. “I gotta get home before it gets dark.”

               “Wait.”

               Dowoon turns around mid-walk, finding Young K looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, looking a bit concerned.

               “Are we still cool?” he asks, looking genuinely worried about it.

               And Dowoon finds himself pausing for a bit, mulling over that thought in his head.

               _Are_ they still cool?

               Because in all honesty, Dowoon's never done this before. Has never made porn before, has never interacted with pornstars before. Has never been exposed to this type of life and this type of people. Has never known what it's been like behind the lens of something that people deem immoral, that the government writes to be illegal, has never done something so dangerous before in his entire life.

               Has never gotten a crush on a complete stranger and do things that made him pursue it despite the heavy consequences of his actions. Has never had a crush on a pornstar who's had sex with probably hundreds, while he can only count the amount of times he's had sex on one hand. Has never done things so stupid and reckless and let his heart do the decision-making, when he knows his mind is smarter than that.

               Has never found such ease in someone who makes him so nervous it's like he can never get rid of the bubble boiling up in the center of his chest. Has never felt a feeling that might turn into “like” someday, if he plays his cards wrong--or maybe right. Has never wanted to see someone so much before, has never missed someone's smile so much before, has never wanted to hold someone's hand so much that there wouldn't be anything he wouldn't do to just feel the brush of it on his.

               It’s completely new territory for Dowoon, and as someone who prefers to stay in his comfort zone, this type of thing is terrifying. How can he know if he can survive this? How can he tell if he's not in a danger zone? How can he tell if the decision he made was the right one?

               Then again, it all comes down to one question now, doesn't it.

               How can he find all that out, without _getting_ out in the first place?

               So, Dowoon lets the corners of his lips curl up as he looks at Young K, giving him a real, genuine smile that isn't paired with a snarky remark. Just like the smile he gave him before. Just like the smile that told Dowoon that he, at least in that brief moment, felt happy.

               “Of course, we’re cool,” he says, almost laughing and punching Young K lightly on the arm, as if he's stupid for even saying it. “What else would we be?”

               And Young K stares at him for a moment, a moment that makes Dowoon wonder why he's staring at him like that. Too innocent to realize the effect he has on him. Too dense to recognize the absolute chaos inside his mind.

               “A lot of things, Dowoon,” he says. “We can be a lot of things.”

               And if Dowoon is going to find out what those things are, well, he’ll just have to keep going then, isn't he?

              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I SEARCHED A DANG LOT FOR THIS CHAPTER ALONE BUT IM STILL NERVOUS IF I GOT ANYTHING WRONG SOMEONE TELL ME IF I GOT ANY TERMS, ETC WRONG BECAUSE AS MUCH AS I WANT TO GET A FREAKING BOOK ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS, KINKS, AND BDSM YOU DONT REALLY SEE ANY OF THAT IN THE PHILS SO PLEASE HELP ME HERE OKAY? OKAY. MOVING ON.  
> \- also aaaAAAY WE FINALLY GOT SUNGPIL IN THE HOUSE B) so yeah, these two are definitely one of my favorite couples to write about, and i just had to for lens dsahdkaskjd  
> \- “chullie-hyung” is suju’s heechul btw. and if you didnt already know, he does, in fact, own an anime body pillow  
> \- also i just realized that ben&ben’s “pagtingin” is also the perfect song for this au, alongside this other au i have in my wips hsakdjsak  
> songs in my head for this chapter:   
> \--- “kathang-isip” by ben&ben (again) (i know)  
> \---“trivia: love” by bts (rm solo)  
> \- also i need to do more research on kinks and bdsm stuffies if anyone has any resources (that isnt a porn site, pls, i beg of you, or one w viruses) kindly offer your services pls bec istg google safesearch mode isnt doing me any good
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> also..... dw about jae being single because ive got some plans for him with our new company hihi 🤭😏


	5. Good Day, Asshole, You Just Ruined It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no NSFW in this one, peeps!!

The following weeks that pass by after are perhaps both the weirdest and the most mundane Dowoon has ever experienced.

               Weird, because Dowoon is _still_ making illegal pornographic media of a guy who just seems to get off on anything, is _still_ practically a permanent employee of an illegal porn company, was _forced_ to eat this weird combination of churros and pesto that Kevin brought over and he choked on because of Young K (“Hey, this is actually pretty good; I kinda like it.” “That's what he said.” “GARBSKSJSK.”), and is _still_ pretty much confused about the whole thing because there is no way that this world is not a simulation with how things are going.

               On the other hand, it's also been pretty mundane, because… well… Dowoon’s been starting to get a little bit used to it.

               I mean, it’s still surreal, you know? No other word can fully describe the way Dowoon’s days have been going for him lately, which is why he always uses it. But despite that he’s been finding that his days are actually still pretty normal, even though he's doing something a lot of people deem not to be.

               Though underground and always have to do things discreetly, the atmosphere of the company is actually a pretty light-hearted one, full of friendly, accommodating people who either approach you with a smile or keep to themselves respectfully. Whenever Dowoon walks into the warehouse where they usually film, or the sets that they set up, or the rare times they go into location (Dowoon found out that the hotel he went to film Young K was one such occasion), he always finds himself feeling as if he's surrounded by a group of friends who just hang out and chill sometimes. People calling out to each other lazily because they are way too far apart from each other. People bursting into sudden fits of laughter before they get scolded by one of the higher-ups. People sometimes falling asleep on top of each other when they've had to wait too long. People calling out, “Good work today, you guys! You did well!” followed by a few claps and everyone heading out in sync.

               The people he's met through the company are arguably the best that Dowoon has ever met. Kevin, who's always so smiley and friendly and never fails to greet him with a (painful) slap on the back. Jamie, Kevin’s fiancé and boss, who always gives her husband-to-be a sarcastic remark, yet always remains by his side. Minghao, Korean name Myeongho, whose photography style changes from set to set because he's always trying to come up with something new and interesting (he mostly does teaser shots, and Dowoon can say he has mad respect for the guy and his talent). Terry, who finally came back after three days of hypothermia and eighteen days of psychosomatic symptoms and didn't mind at all that Dowoon took his job. Nayeon, who also shares an annoyance at Young K which is rooted in her finding him so annoyingly attractive, much to the annoyance of her girlfriend, Sana.

               Even Wonpil and Sungjin are pretty nice to hang out with, though Dowoon finds himself hiding behind either his camera or Young K, when he so much as locks eyes with them, moreso the former than the latter. After that “compensation” incident a few weeks ago, Dowoon has been trying to avoid Wonpil and his menacing gaze, trying his best to never subject himself under the umbrella of his apparent blackmail tendencies. Wonpil has the face of an angel, but it is apparent that there is a devil hiding underneath that halo, and Dowoon does not want to meet it ever.

               On the other hand, his boyfriend, Sungjin, doesn't exude any of that kind of aura, as a man of few words that only slip out of his lips when Wonpil is around. It is as if his role in life is to pacify his outspoken and hot-headed lover, who always has it out for staff member Heechul for some reason. Dowoon more often than not finds his rock-solid face soften whenever Wonpil so much as smiles at him, or wraps two arms around his torso. But other than that, Dowoon doesn't find the man interacting with anyone else much, except to give a polite, curt nod. It makes him wonder how close those two are exactly, and why Sungjin is even here in the first place, when it always seems like he doesn't care much about his work.

               Overall, Dowoon finds the company to be just like other companies, with the exception of the kind of work they do. Might find them even better than others, considering how comfortable he feels around them. And he can definitely tell the difference whenever he goes back up to the surface and meets with the people above ground—the people he meets at work.

               Of _course_ , he still works at his part-time jobs despite getting a nee one! Even though he's earning more from this porn company than any other institution, he still needs a stable source of income. He’s working in the porn company only on an on-call basis, and there was even an entire week where Dowoon hadn't been called once. The jobs he has at the convenience store and at the fast food restaurant may earn him less, but at least they're constant and reliable. And Dowoon likes to walk with his feet planted flat on the ground.

               But damn him if he doesn't hate every single minute he spends working above ground. Every single day, his boss at the convenience store always has something to say about the way he works, the way he dresses, the way he speaks, and the way he holds himself up. His hands are too slow, his hair is too messy, his voice is too soft, his posture is too low, and his entire being is apparently worthy of being fired, already, if the store didn't need their one of only two employees and had difficulty in finding a new one. _I wonder the_ fuck _why._

               And his coworkers at the restaurant are arguably even worse, always talking about others behind their backs, gossiping instead of working the table, always on their phone even though there is a _clear_ no-gadgets policy, and never doing a single thing right. Dowoon always has to clean up their mess, because he's one of the younger ones and therefore would always be the first to get scolded when everything goes to shit.

               It's a nightmare, honestly. So much so that the days at the porn company are like a dream—and literally everything they do could get them in jail. It makes him wonder how something deemed evil could give him such comfort, and how something deemed to be right could give him so much hell.

               It makes him wonder if the reason why something is bad is not because of what's being done, but because of the people behind it. He wonders if such thoughts are justified considering his experience, or biased, considering his situation.

               Either way, Dowoon finds his days to continue being a breeze, as much of a breeze it is with his part-time jobs, _plus_ the constant palpitation of his heart whenever he goes to the porn company—which is only ever induced by a certain Adonis.

               Which leads to this question: what exactly is going on with him and Young K?

               First of all, Dowoon knows for a _fact_ that Young K is _not_ interested in him, even though that episode he had with him a few weeks ago almost made him think otherwise. The guy constantly teases him for everything: his fluffy hair, how he blushes easily, how he can't seem to stop his eyes from trailing itself all over Young K’s naked body (Dowoon tries _so hard_ , but only ends up _getting_ hard despite it). And when he discovered that Dowoon’s name for him on his phone was “Annoying Asshole”, he wouldn't stop talking about it for _days_.

               “Aw, you really made a special nickname for me?” Young K said with a mocking hand on his bare chest. “I’m touched.”

               “Just focus on touching your _self_ , you insufferable dickwad.”

               So, with that history in mind, Dowoon can completely cross the Potential of Young K’s Interest in Him off the list because that is just too unrealistic for words, and this is a fic done with absolutely no prior research.

               On the other end of the equation, Dowoon… well…

               In short, it seems that his little crush is growing into something not so little anymore.

               He can't deny that, with the passing days of being around Young K and constantly chatting with him every other, the little sparks of feelings he has for him are starting to catch fire. Every time Young K greets him with a smile at work, sends him a text to ask about his day when neither of them had any together, or sends him a photo showing _his_ smile and _his_ day, it's like the man is putting firewood after firewood to fuel his flame of a heart; when Dowoon finally puts one out, Young K is there to bring it back to life once again.

               He knows his limits when it comes to this. He had already drawn a line of fire in the grass to battle with the wall coming his way to stop it before it spreads everywhere. But Dowoon can't deny how much more he wants to know about Young K, can't deny how much he wants to let it all out on Jaehyung even though he must keep it a secret. With how he gets more used to seeing him and seeing his body, you'd think the fluttering feeling would leave when the familiarity came.

               But the butterflies are still there, evident, and either they’re gonna keep on flying, or the fire is going to burn their wings and bring them to the ground.

               Which situation Dowoon would prefer, he can't really tell.

               He just knows he can't tell anyone anything, or else he'll find himself in a situation no one would.

               Unfortunately for him, he's roommates with the one person in his life who would stop at nothing to find him out, the only person who definitely could.

               “So, you've been going out more often, lately,” Jaehyung says, and Dowoon flinches from where he just finished sending “good day, asshole, you just ruined it” on his phone.

               “Have I?” Dowoon tries, making his shoulders (seem) more relaxed as he leans against the back of his seat, watching the “...” of Young K’s unfinished reply dance on the left side of the chat room.

               “Yeah, you have.” Jaehyung turns to him from where he's typing up a long paragraph of things on his laptop on the kitchen table; probably another article for his blog. “Your part-time jobs only take up half your week, right? But you've been going out constantly every day, and you're always exhausted. Where have you been going?”

               “Oh, um…” Dowoon wracks his brain for thoughts as he spots Young K’s message of “always love how you constantly find new ways to insult me, i am so proud. passed by that restaurant you work at, btw. you were right, your coworkers are giving me MAJOR asshole vibes”.

               “... I-I got myself a new job!” Dowoon settles, turning back to Jaehyung. “It’s, um, been taking up a lot of my time. You know. More work, more money. No money, no Junji Ito, haha.”

               “A new job?” Jaehyung asks with a raised eyebrow, looking unconvinced. “What kind of job?”

               “Uh…” _Think, Dowoon, think!_ “An on-call… deliverer! At a ramen shop!” Dowoon says, thinking about Young K’s favorite food. “I don't really know the name; it’s in Japanese, and I don't really wanna offend my boss with my lack of cultural knowledge.”

               “Japanese?” Jaehyung echoes. “There aren't any ramen shops whose names are written in Japanese in our area.”

               Shit, I forgot hyung does reviews of things like that. “Um—it’s not _in_ our area!” Dowoon attempts a shrug, trying to seem casual about it. “It’s kinda far, wh-which is why I always come home exhausted. ‘C-cause of the trip. And you know what—it might not even _be_ Japanese! It could be Chinese, or Taiwanese, or Bolognese—I don't know. I'm not even that good at speaking in my mother tongue.”

               “Bolognese is not a language,” Jaehyung deadpans, staring at him judgingly.

               “... Well, whadda ya know! Learn somethin’ new, errday.”

               Dowoon awkwardly returns to his phone with a grin (a grimace) on his face, reading over Young K’s “i cannot believe youre actually leaving me on read this is slander”. He replies with, “shut up im going through a crisis rn”.

               He can feel Jaehyung’s eyes squint at him from behind his glasses.

               “You're hiding something from me,” he says, suspicious aura surrounding his voice.

               Dowoon keeps his eyes down at his phone screen, too scared to look at him lest he read him like an open book.

               “Hiding something from you?” he manages to keep his voice steady. (“a crisis? dont you get those when youre like 50” “ive gone through a lot im practically 84”) “Why would I hide something from you?”

               “You're not denying it,” Jaehyung says, and Dowoon almost gulps, “so that means you are. What are you keeping from me?”

               “Nothing, hyung! There’s not even anything to keep!”

               “Then, why are you acting so weirdly, huh? Why won't you look away from your phone? Who are you talking to? Your boyfriend?”

               Why is he being like this now _?_ “N-no, of course not! I’m talking to Eomeo-nim! And I already told you, he's not my boyfriend!”

               “Eomeo-nim, huh.” Jaehyung’s voice is dangerous. “Then, I guess you have no problem showing me your phone screen.”

               Dowoon instinctively presses his phone to his chest, looking at Jaehyung, horrified.

               “Wh-why do you need to see it?” he almost screeches, feeling his entire body shake with a sudden fear he never knew he could feel. “She's just asking me about my day—”

               “And I would love to tell her about mine.” Jaehyung starts to move towards him. “I’m sure she’d love to know how her son-in-law is doing. Give me your phone, so I can text her.”

               “U-use your own!” Dowoon says, backing away. But there's only a wall behind him. And Jaehyung is faster than he looks.

               “It’s still charging,” Jaehyung says, getting nearer and nearer. “And you know I don't use my phone unless it's at full battery.”

               Dowoon hastily locks his phone. “There! Now, you can't—”

               “Haven't you learned anything? I know exactly what your password is, Dowoon-ah. Ninety-Two-Zero-Nine-Fifteen. _My_ birthdate.”

               God, why _—_ “It’s _my_ phone, you can't just—”

               “You've got nothing to hide, right? So, why are you so afraid?”

               “That's not—this is not—”

               “Who are you _really_ talking to, Dowoon-ah? Why are you lying to me?”

               “I’m not—I’m not—”

               “What are you hiding?”

               “Noth—”

               “Why won't you tell me?”

               “Hyu—”

               “Dowoon-ah,” Jaehyung says, voice dangerously low, “ _what_ are you keeping secret from m—”

               “WE’RE _SEXTING_!”

               Dowoon had stood up from his seat and effectively pushed away his chair with a giant _thud_ , keeping his eyes shut as he clutches onto his phone, holding on for dear life.

               A silence follows after, keeping the tension in the room as stable as Dowoon’s career.

               “... I’m sorry, what?” Jaehyung asks after a while, sounding confused.

               Dowoon opens his eyes, finding himself completely mortified at the story he's about to fabricate.

               “Me and my… b-boyfriend are sexting right now,” he says, face burning at his words. “It’s getting really good, and I am getting really hard, and frankly, I think you can piece together why I am keeping this from you,” he says under gritted teeth.

               For a while, Jaehyung says nothing.

               Then, a single tear slides down from his cheek.

               “Oh, my god…” Jaehyung says with a soft voice, both palms coming up to his face as more tears stream down it.

               Dowoon didn't know what he expected, but this definitely wasn't it.

               “My entire life I had been waiting for you to finally come to terms with your sexuality, and now you have,” Jaehyung’s voice almost breaks.

               “What? Hyung, I've always been in terms with my sexuality; I even lost my virginity back in college. Also, you've only known me since Noona married your noona.”

               Jaehyung wipes the tears on his face. “Doesn't erase the fact that my baby boy is finally growing up.”

               “I’m already _grown_.”

               “Oh, shush-shush!” Jaehyung moves to push Dowoon away from the dining room and to the direction of the rooms. “You silly boy—you should've known better than to send sexy texts in the dining room (though if that's your kink, then by all means, do it when I'm not around). You should be doing it in your _room_ , and you should be _touching_ yourself while doing i—”

               “ _Okay, okay, hyung—_ I think I got the picture,” Dowoon says, finding that sentence to be more horrifying than when Jaehyung was about to find him out. “Can you leave me alone, now?”

               “Of course, my sweet, sweet little angel.” Jaehyung places a kiss on Dowoon's forehead and he almost screams. _WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE DID YOU HIDE MY HYUNG?_ “Have fun! And I hope you guys get to do the real thing soon!”

               Jaehyung closes the door to his face and Dowoon is met with the surface of the block of wood in front of him, staring. Just staring.

               A _ping!_ sounds from his phone and Dowoon checks his message.

**Annoying Asshole**

are u ok your not dead are you

*youre

**Me**

oh young k-ssi

i might as well be

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Annoying Asshole**

SEXTING

FUCKINF SEXTING

**Me**

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP

               Dowoon groans against his pillow, regretting every single decision he's ever made in his entire life. He had hoped for some comfort after lamenting his predicament to his faux-friend, but lo and behold: he's a fucking disappointment.

**Annoying Asshole**

i cannot fucking BELIEVE thats the story wyou went with holy SHIT HAHAHAHAHAHA

you wvwn called me youd BOYFRIEND oh my fucking GOD

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA

**Me**

I PANICKED OKAY

I WAS IN A DIRE FUCKING SITUATION

I TOLD YOU I WAS HAVING A CRISIS

**Annoying Asshole**

ye a crisis of sexting for the first time AKSHSKSJSKSK

 

               Dear God, why did you make him get a crush on this buffoon?

               Me

i am done

i am so fucking done

goodbye young k this friendship is over

**Annoying Asshole**

nonononono wait come back aksjskssj

ill stop ok ill stop ajajakaj

**Me**

ugh

**Annoying Asshole**

sjsksj but you gotta admit that was pretty fucking funny

i mean why sexting of all things

**Me**

ugh i dont know????? you and i were chatting while he and i were talking and i needed a way for him to not wanna check on my phone so it just went there

**Annoying Asshole**

ajshsksjs youre lucky that guy wasnt the type of person who would WANT to see that sort of thing

who is he, anyway

**Me**

just my brother-in-law

hes only known me for like 5 years but he acts as if hes been here for 40

im not even 40

**Annoying Asshole**

so hes kinda protective of you i see

**Me**

yeah he is

i mean its kinda overbearing sometimes, but i GUESS its sweet? he does it because he promised my noona hell take care of me, so that she could focus on her own love with his noona

it was the one thing that kept them from marrying, you know? noona was worried there would be no one who would watch over me

**Annoying Asshole**

wow

your family sounds amazing

**Me**

they are

im really grateful for them

and i GUESS that means my hyung too ugh

funny how he said hell protect me but he was the one who tricked me into getting a job at your porn company

**Annoying Asshole**

he was the reason you came back?

**Me**

he was the reason i went in the first place

he even gave you guys my real name, asshole

**Annoying Asshole**

huh

so im guessing youre never gonna introduce me to him, huh

**Me**

EW NO WHY WOULD I DO THAT

if he finds out that im still in contact with the company and WORSE in constant contact with one of its pornstars he is NEVER gonna let me live it DOWN U G H

no you are staying right where you are behind my phone screen and in front of my camera lens

**Annoying Asshole**

aw but

im your boyfriend

**Me**

NO YOU ARE NOT I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOUD STOP

**Annoying Asshole**

already breaking up w me after a month? honey, youre so cruel

**Me**

DONT FUCKINF CALL ,E THAR

**Annoying Asshole**

maybe a little bit of sexting may rekindle your love for me? ;)

**Me**

DONT YOU FUCKIG DARE

actually you know what could you?

if my hyung really does end up peeping into my phone, im gonna need receipts

not now tho maybe sometime in the future

**Annoying Asshole**

oh well if youre so enthusiastic why dont you imagine me taking my clothes off and slowly crawling over to you while you lie down on the bed and wait for me to eat you up

**Me**

NOT JOW YOU FUXKINGA IDOT NOT FUCKINGS NOW I SAID NOT MWO

**Annoying Asshole**

haha

**Me**

i fucking hate you

**Annoying Asshole**

pls

you love me

**Me**

get out of your delusional mind

**Annoying Asshole**

fine, fine

ill just stay your pretty little secret

gonna get now, gotta do this errand

ttyl

_Annoying Asshole sent a photo._

               Dowoon taps on the picture and the screen opens up to Young K smiling at the camera all grinny and everything, his phone at a distance above him as he took the selfie. He looks like he's standing on a sidewalk, some bustling cars, rectangular flower pots, and a lamppost behind him. He has his palm open as he waves paused at the camera, sending Dowoon his “goodbye for now ♡”.

               (Wait, no, cross that heart out, ew, ew.)

               Dowoon finds himself staring at the photo with a slow smile crawling up his face, feeling his heart enveloped with the warmth he's been familiar with for a while now. He loves seeing stuff like this, of Younghyun sending him photos that show part of his day, instead of part of his body. While Dowoon (bitterly admits that he) likes seeing Young K being his hot, Adonis self in front of his camera, he also likes seeing Young K being his sweet, boyfriend(-like person) in front of his own camera. Likes to see that carefree smile on his face. Likes that he sends these photos to Dowoon specifically (though he bets he probably does this for everyone he knows).

               It's moments like this that Dowoon lets himself feel giddy about Young K, when he's alone in his own world with no one to tell him no. He'll have to crush this feeling a minute later to save his sanity, dignity, and self, but for the moment, he keeps the smile on his face. Lets it stay there, for as long as he lets it. Lets himself admit this crush, for just a few more seconds.

               He’s about to put his phone down and finally get back to reality when he realizes something about Young K’s picture.

               Hang on, he thinks, bending forward and looking closer. _That's…_

               Those flower pots. That lamppost. That street. That sidewalk.

               He knows that sidewalk. Walks there literally everyday.

               It’s the sidewalk that connects Dowoon’s building to all the others.

               The sidewalk—

               that's only a block away.

               Dowoon doesn't know why he's so intent on thinking about this. Doesn't know why this even matters or why it's so important to him or why he cares where Young K is.

               But he's already grabbing his jacket, his camera, his phone, and placing a cap on his head, the little voice in the back of his mind going, _You’re crazy. You are fucking crazy._

               And you know what? Yeah.

               Yeah, he fucking is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“Oh, you going out?”

               (“Yeah, I just need to do something.”

               (“Cool. Be safe.”

               (“Sure, hyung. Will do.”

               (“...”

               (“...”

               (“...”

               (“...”

               (“... Did you get off we—”

               (“BYE, HYUNG. I AM NEVER COMING BACK.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- why do the chat parts of this fic always go sentimental and give out a sudden background that was never part of the original  
> \- also fun fact: this chapter wasnt supposed to end here but after writing it this felt like a good place to cut it ^^  
> \- also yes shut up i ship sana and nayeon from twice what is love is to blame darn it WHAT IS LOVE IS TO BLAME  
> edit: also thank you to the kind and considerate people who probably noticed the dang typos and how i basically uploaded the draft and not the final chapter but didn't point it out, you have saved my feelings and me from utter devastation
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	6. It Was Supposed to be "Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends: Beach Cruise" But I Don't Think They Have That in Korea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no NSFW!!

You know, Dowoon was never really one for unnecessary things. 

               It just never seemed appealing, being a part of all the crazy antics and chaotic bullshit that the people around him seemed to love to do. Like, what’s so great about doing things that could get you behind bars—or worse, the internet—for all the world to see? It just didn’t seem smart, to subject yourself to large amounts of effort just to become the object of embarrassment later. And no matter how much people tried to convince him, Dowoon swore to never let up.

               When his college batchmates tried to convince him to dress up with them as members of a popular girl group and perform their songs at the university festival, Dowoon politely declined in favor of a relaxing day reading Junji Ito. When his high school classmates pranked their class adviser by sitting backwards in their chairs after the morning greeting, Dowoon stayed seated upright quietly reading Junji Ito. And when the kids at the park back in Busan wanted to climb up to the highest slide in the playground and pummel down to their impending death because no one was going to be there to catch them because their parents were chatting it all up at the side ignorant of their children’s fated doom, Dowoon was sitting on the bench reading Junji Ito for the first time.

               Throughout the entirety of it, Dowoon vowed to never be a part of any of those crazy and stupid antics, which were all just a hair away from reckless imprudence (resulting into possible homicide and damage to property), and promised himself he would only stay in the normal side of things, the _mundane_ side of things. To never subject himself under anything that could potentially ruin his dignity, and by extension, his life.

               Which is why I guess it makes sense that Yoon Dowoon, self-proclaimed normality extraordinaire, is currently hiding behind a brick wall, wearing nothing but a big-ass jacket and a big-ass cap and the biggest-ass camera in the entire fucking world, and doing the _one_ thing he promised himself he would _never_ do his by doing the most _extra fucking thing_ which is waiting to spy on his faux friend Mr Foxy the Underground Fuckboy, just as soon as he figures out where he is.

               What a wonderful world we live in.

               Dowoon runs a hand down his face, crumpling in realization. He cannot _believe_ it has come to this: following a pornstar under broad daylight, keeping his cap down low so no one can recognize him—I mean, this is literally sasaeng behavior right now; who on Earth let Dowoon decide all this? Not to mention the camera on his neck. There was literally no reason for him to bring this thing. He looks like he’s about to do something illegal, like taking photos of unwanted media, or something, and then posting it online for all the world to see. Or, you know, work under Dispatch. Literally the same thing.

               God, the things he does because of this man. He has absolutely no idea how it has come to this or why it even had to get to this point in the first place, but he figures he can’t get out of it now. It’s already evident with every attempt he’s made (re: tried) to get over him that he’s stuck in a rabbit hole going all the way down to the center of the Earth just to blow up in flames the moment he reaches the core. Time and time again he convinces himself that Young K just isn’t worth it, and time and time again Young K proves him wrong. Even when his mind tells him otherwise. It’s just a constant predicament he’s been dealing with since the moment he met him.

               Truth be told, he has no idea where all of this will lead to. If it will end badly, happily, sadly, or bitterly—has no idea if any of the decisions he’s making are good ones, even when a lot of them _seem_ to be. It just feels like the world is out there laughing at you for making your decisions _thinking_ that you’re right when you’re really wrong, and that sort of thing is frightening for Dowoon. Frightening for someone who’s always loved staying in his comfort zone.

               But he finds his body moving before his heart feels. He finds his heart taking the reins before his mind can hold onto it. And when his body and heart are in the works, his mind follows completely, knowing happiness when it can’t even feel it.

               Young K makes him happy. Even when Dowoon’s scared of it, hesitant of it. Even when it seems like nothing can come out from the type of relationship they have, and the type of people they are, and the type of work they’re in.

               But those little bursts of happiness are what makes him keep going. It was what made him grab his jacket, cap, and camera and burst out of his room in the first place. To go out of his comfort zone for something better than comfort. To take risks for an experience that mundane just can’t provide.

               He figures that’s why he hasn’t been able to completely let go yet. Even though he knows that one day, he must. 

               But for now, Dowoon removes his cap, hides his camera, and looks out of his hiding place, knowing that “one day” is not today.

               What lies before him is a sidewalk just like any other sidewalk, colored a dusty gray and lined with some minor cracks in random places. On his right are the tall-towering symbols of capitalism selling various trinkets and consumables to get you under the Curse of the Money Splurge, and on his left is the habitat of the most dangerous machines mankind has ever created, producing smoke and polluting the air of the great Korean nation.

               Between the road and the sidewalk, there is a set of rectangular pots, its flowers colored yellow and orange, and a few unlit lamp posts lining the edge; Dowoon recognizes them as the ones he spotted in Young K’s picture. It’s the reason why he even knew he was here in the first place; there was no other place in the city that had these (which is why you should never take real-time photos of yourself near landmarks, kids; you never know who’d want to look for you).

               Dowoon steps out of his hiding place (completely pretending that he doesn’t see the suspicious looks of the passersby around him) and starts walking slowly by the shops, looking at them one by one and wondering which one Young K is in. _He said he was running an errand..._

               Though Dowoon is rather familiar with this place and the shops that go with it, he’s never actually lasted long inside any of them, since he was never really interested in anything they had to offer. You have the beauty shop that sells cosmetics and every single brand of self-care products that are _not_ the brands that Dowoon uses; the coffee shop whose aroma makes Dowoon scrunch up his nose because he never really did like the smell of roasted coffee beans or the beverages that they are used to make; the book shop that sells every kind of reading materials from self-help books to young adult novels, and yet not a single manhwa or comic; and lastly the fancy restaurant, which is a place he would only go to if someone offered to pay for all his meals. 

               When Dowoon _does_ go out for something other than groceries and other necessities, it’s usually to the manhwa and aeni store by the front of the apartment, or the movie theatre, if Jaehyung is able to successfully annoy him enough to make him go there. He doesn’t spend time going to different shops or restaurants or even malls of the city, because to him, that children’s park and Junji Ito are the only entertainment he needs. 

               So it’s surprising to find out that _Young K_ is the type to be in one of these places, granted it’s for an errand. But even so, it makes Dowoon wonder even more about the type of person that man is, if his habits and tendencies are so different from Dowoon (and in regards to that, he’s already known it since the beginning). It also makes him wonder just how many things they have in common, if this sidewalk is already one that connects them.

               Dowoon pries his eyes off the buildings and turns to the edge of the sidewalk, finding the yellow and orange flower bushes planted prettily in their flowerpots. He tries to visualize the other objects in the background of Young K’s picture, and remembers one of the lampposts situated just at a distance from where his smile—I mean, his face—was, somewhere behind him.

               Which means if Dowoon takes a few more steps, and if that lamppost is the one from the picture, and he adjusts his position while keeping in mind how Young K would’ve taken it—

               If he takes a step to the right, then a small one to the left, then two backwards, and one forwards, and he looks back at the lamppost to check if he got it right—

               Then this is where he’s supposed to be.

               He turns to his right—

               And finds the bookshop. Staring straight at him.

               Standing. Waiting. As if it already knew that this is where Dowoon would end up, no matter what method he took to get here. Even if Dowoon never intended to at all.

               The door opens quietly as he walks in, and Dowoon finds himself in an entirely new world.

               The bookshop is painted in all the colors of the forest, all the light greens, and woody browns, and sky blues, and white clouds. It looks like what the inside of a cottage would be, except with a bit of that modern smoothness fit for contemporary times. But despite that, it's cozy, and it's warm, and it makes him think of a few fuzzy memories that he doesn’t recall all that well, but knows to have been happy times, if the swell of his heart is any indication.

               From where he’s standing by the bottom-right corner of the shop, Dowoon can see tall shelves lining the wall on the right and the wall across it, filled with all sorts of books and their accompanying labels hanging from the wood. In the middle of the room are smaller, miniature shelves for people to crouch down and browse as they please. By the wide window serving as the storefront are a group of round tables decorated minimally with small plants for people to read or just relax under the natural light. Across the window on the other side is a small crevice where the person manning the register is currently standing by a counter, a couple doors by his sides indicating a storage unit for the personnel. It comes to know surprise that the cashier looks like he’s about to fall asleep, since the whole atmosphere of the shop makes you feel like you’re in a dream.

               And in the corner of the shop that draws a diagonal from Point A to Point B, from where Dowoon is currently standing to where Dowoon is currently looking at, is the figure of a man nothing short of a daydream, his back facing him, his face invisible from view.

               But he knows that that’s the man he’s looking for. Knows it in the way he stands, the way his back’s turned—knows it because he’s always looking at him when he’s looking away, because he can’t stand the way his gaze is returned. By a pair of brown eyes the most beautiful in the world, belonging to the face most beautiful in the world, of a man whose heart has taken hold of his since the beginning until forever, both in _this_ world and his.

               Then a different face pops into view and the loudest voice in _all_ worlds comes to record-scratch the YA movie of a thought-process in his head.

               “Good afternoon, sir! How may I help—”

               Dowoon covers the man’s mouth and pulls him down to the ground just as Young K is about to turn around, hiding behind the low, low protection of the shelf closest to him.

               Great—now, he's both a stalker _and_ a hostage-taker.

               “ _MMM! MMHRMM!_ ” the clerk he just took hostage of tries to free himself from Dowoon’s grip, voice muffled but still very much loud and enough to attract unwanted attention from a certain customer.

               “ _Shh!_ ” Dowoon immediately says, putting his finger to his lips and giving the clerk a warning look, trying to make it seem like he isn’t threatening his life, though that’s probably what it looks like exactly.

               Thankfully, the clerk does end up shutting up, though the fear in his eyes is giving Dowoon qualms about his sense of morality. He even looks younger than him, which is making Dowoon look worse than he actually is.

               “Look, there’s nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m not here to kidnap anybody or whatever,” he says, watching as the clerk stares up at him with wide eyes. “I’m just here to meet with my, uh… ugh, fine—my _friend_.” 

               Dowoon rolls his eyes at the statement before removing his hand from the clerk’s mouth; the guy lets out a silent breath of relief, straightening himself up on the floor.

               “Your friend?” the clerk coughs a little. _Sorry, kid—hiding’s a bitch._ “Why are you hiding if you're meeting your _friend_?”

               “He, uh…” Dowoon glances away then back. “He doesn't know I’m here.”

               The clerk gives him a judging look from where they both sit on the wooden floor, his brown hair disheveled. “So, are you just stalking him? Hyung, you know that's borderline sasaeng behavior, right—”

               “ _Yes, I know, just_ —” Dowoon covers his face, counts to three. “He’s the guy in the corner, checking out the books.”

               The clerk raises an eyebrow at him, probably wondering about a lot of things, but he goes on all fours and crawls on the floor anyway, making his way to the edge of the shelves. 

               He peeks his head out from the shelf, tilts his head up, and then turns back to Dowoon.

               With about the most shooketh look in history.

               He hastily scrambles on his way back to Dowoon, almost tripping on his way there.

               “ _That's_ the guy you're meeting with?” he almost hisses, giving him a “SHUT. _UP._ ” expression. “That white-haired regular who comes here almost every week? The guy who looks like a freaking _daydream_?”

               Dowoon didn’t know that Young K was a regular here, but he nods anyway, biting down on his lip and covering his face with a hand. He isn’t sure if he should laugh or be embarrassed at this kid’s commentary.

               “Holy freaking _poop_.” The clerk hovers both his hands over his head, looking as if the video of the Big Bang booming with astral projection was currently playing in the background. _His mind_. “That freaking Greek god of a guy is your _friend_? Freaking _lucky—_ ”

               The clerk suddenly stops short, furrowing his eyebrows.

               “Wait, but—” He puts his hands down. “Why are you being so hesitant in approaching him if he's you already know hi—”

               Then, the clerk jolts in realization, suddenly jerking his head to Dowoon’s direction. 

               “Wait,” he says, eyes wide, hand automatically going up to his face. “Holy poop, you—you freaking—oh, my god, you have a cr—”

               “ _Yes, I have a crush on him, now shut the fuck up_ ,” Dowoon hisses, trying to keep both his voice and his angry blush down. _Fucking hell, Young K, now you got me telling other people my feelings for you before_ I've _even accepted my feelings for you._ “Now, could you please leave me be so I could approach him quietly? I gotta make it seem like I just got here, but that I didn't know _he_ was here.”

               The clerk gives him a supportive thumbs-up and grin.

               “Sure thing, beloved guest,” he says, giving him a nod. “Rooting for you. Freaking get some.”

               Dowoon buries his face in his hands as the store clerk stands up from where he was hiding, casually patting down his uniform and making his way towards the empty cash register. Dowoon shakes his head before making his way in the other direction, crouch-walking over to the other end of the wall where Young K is supposed to be.

               He peeks out from the edge of the last low-standing shelf to see Young K with his back to him, now checking on the books on the lone shelf next to the cash register. Dowoon locks eyes with the store clerk, and he gives him a pointed look and nudges his head in Young K’s direction, telling him, “Freaking get on with it.”

               So Dowoon goes on over to the shelves on the wall and pretends to look over the books in that area, keeping his eyes on Young K, who’s still looking over the books on his end, an index finger hovering over the titles. He tries to stop himself from checking him out; he really does:

               Young K is currently wearing a comfy-looking bomber jacket over what looks to be a white button-down shirt, if the cloth peeking out from the jacket is any indication. He’s also wearing blue ripped jeans (god, save his soul) and a pair of white Converse, which look a bit worn and used. Dowoon recalls Young K wearing the same pair during their not-a-date-but-looks-like-one at the children’s park. He wonders how long it's been since he's had those, because he’s pretty sure that the fraying at the sides is anything but a fashion choice.

               Suddenly, Young K turns to his left and Dowoon whips his head in the other direction, still pretending to check on the books. He’s not even looking at any of the titles; just praying to god that Young K doesn't see the big-ass bullshit he's pulling and give him more reason to tease him and make him regret every single thing he’s ever done in his life. The more he hangs out with him, the more regrets he gets, and Dowoon is so tired of regretting.

               Nothing happens for a while, and Dowoon discreetly glances to see Young K looking over the titles on the shelves on their shared side, somehow still not noticing Dowoon even though a literal glance to the left would be enough for him to notice him staring.

               Dowoon finds a small smile creep up his face, a silent breath of laughter leaving his lips at how funny the situation is. Young K looks so serious picking out books from the shelf, pulling one out just to put it back in. Reading over the back of the book just to shake his head and reach for another one. Then taking the same one he put back before just to check on it all over again.

               It sends a fluffy feeling to Dowoon’s chest at how… adorable Young K is, like this. Like he’s searching for the answer to the universe when really it’s just a book. The way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his bottom lip is slightly jutting out, making Dowoon bite his lip to hold down the squeal in his throat. It puts him in another moment where he lets himself give in to this tiny crush his has for him, just like when he stared at Young K’s picture about thirty minutes ago. A moment where he doesn't think about the consequences and only focuses on the happy feeling in his heart and face. He wonders if there was any other time where he felt this happy. Wonders if this feeling is a blessing—or a curse.

               “Ah, of course!” Young K suddenly says, and Dowoon flinches, thinking he just got caught—

               But then Young K is pulling out a book from the shelf, and Dowoon sighs of silent relief.

               He watches as the biggest grin spreads across Young K’s face as he looks over the cover of the thin book he just pulled out, passing his thumb over it. Dowoon can't see what the title is from where he's standing, but he can definitely see the way Young K’s eyes crinkle as he stares down at it, flipping the book over and then back again.

               He opens the book and reads over the words on the pages, probably skimming with how quickly he turns them. But the same fond look doesn't falter from his face even though he keeps on flipping, as if he's merely looking over the memories in an old photo album. 

               Then, suddenly he stops at a page in the middle, and Dowoon can see his eyes reading every word on the page, slowly getting sucked into whatever story is being told. At one point, Young K’s smile goes even wider, and he closes the book, again looking over the cover. The sight of that new smile on his face has Dowoon mesmerized, entranced, making him wonder how such a thin book could make him that way. He wonders how beautiful the story must be, if it brings such a beautiful smile on his face.

               Then, Young K glances to his left and Dowoon looks away in haste, clumsily grabbing the book his hand had been touching and praying to god that Young K didn't notice him staring.

               “Dowoon?” he hears Young K say and immediately turns to him with a prompted response, not looking awkward at all.

               “Oh, _heeey_ , hyung!” Dowoon greets with a grin (a grimace) as he turns to the man looking at him, pretending to be as surprised as he looks. He leans an arm against the shelf as he presses his book against his chest. “What a _coincidence_! I didn't know you were _here_.”

               The store clerk suddenly bursts out held-back laughter in the distance before smoothly turning it into a cough, Dowoon condemning the boy behind his fake grin.

               “Yeah, it is,” Young K says with a breath of laughter, the corner of his lips turning up in a combination of disbelief and amusement. “I thought you were at home. Weren’t you planning on staying home the entire day?”

               “Oh, well, uh—I just got, uh— _inspired._ By how hardworking ya were—ya kno—running ya errand and stuff. Which ya texted me about,” Dowoon adds as an afterthought, feeling his thoughts trip over themselves but still somehow land safely on the ground. “The force of nature just called me to get on over to this ‘ere place, and pa- _blam_! ‘Ere we both are.”

               Young K furrows his eyebrows a little at Dowoon, though not unsmiling. 

“Why are you speaking like that?” he asks, sounding slightly amused.

               “Spihkin’ liek wut?” Dowoon sticks his tongue into the wall of his mouth, feeling metaphorical waterfalls of sweat gushing down his face.

               “Like that. Like… you're bullshitting me, or something.” Young K lets out another breath of laughter.

               “Oh—uh—no! _No_.” Dowoon waves a dismissive hand. “That must be my, um—my accent! I’m a Busan man, ya kn— _you_ know. Sometimes the dialect slips out.”

               Dowoon mentally apologizes to all his Busan brethren who are probably offended right now because no way in heck does the accent sound anything like his Bullshit Dialect.

               Young K keeps his eyebrows furrowed at him, but eventually shrugs.

               “Okay. I’ll believe you,” he says, and Dowoon mentally breathes out a sigh of relief.

               “So, uh,” Dowoon starts, gesturing to Young K’s book with his own book, “your errand was buying books?”

               “Not exactly.” Young K smiles at him. _Lord, give me strength._ “I’m buying a birthday present—for my little cousin. She's turning eight next month, and she's been trying to read a lot of books, so I figured I’d buy her one.”

               Dowoon thinks back to how serious Young K looked while picking out a book and feels his heart swelling knowing it was for a little kid. “That's really sweet of you,” he says, smiling at him a little. 

               “Nah.” Young K shakes his head, glancing down at his book with a smile. “It’s just some regular stuff. It’s not even anything that fancy; I bet someone’s gonna give her some life-size doll or something. Wouldn't compare to a book.”

               “Well... what book is it?” Dowoon asks, coming closer to take a peek at the cover. 

               Young K turns to him with a grin and shows him the cover of the book, the background colored light blue. The cover depicts a golden-haired boy in green clothes and a yellow scarf covering his neck getting pulled away from a tiny planet by strings attached to a flock of birds.

               “It’s The Little Prince,” Young K says, and the way he says it tells Dowoon that he's a little bit excited sharing it. 

               “The Little Prince?” Dowoon echoes, inadvertently leaning into Young K’s space to get a better look. “I’ve never heard of that one before.”

               “You haven't?” Dowoon shakes his head. “Well, you definitely should. It’s honestly my favorite book in the entire world.”

               Dowoon blinks up at him at that, almost in surprise. He finds Young K looking down at the book with that same fond smile from before, finds his cheeks to be a little bit pink from it. _So that's why he had that look on his face…_

               “It’s really important to me,” Young K says, still looking down. It's almost as if he's talking to himself. “Every time I read it, it just… it just sends me back. To way happier times. Like I get transported back to the past and relive all my best memories. Like when you went over your photo album when you were in college.”

               Young K turns to him at that, fond smile still on his face. 

               “I really love this book, you know,” he says. “I just wish my little cousin would love it as much as I do.”

               Dowoon finds himself staring up at Young K, mesmerized, speechless. Orange. Yellow. And pink. Finds discovering these things about him make him wanna know more about him. Finds knowing more about him making him warmer than ever before. 

               “I…” Dowoon starts. 

               “I’m sure she will,” he settles, giving him a small smile, careful not to make it too big or else he'll notice. He turns away from him, making animated gestures. “I mean, the cover itself is already pretty cool—birds bringing little princes wherever the heck he wants. What's the story about, anyway?”

               “Well, it’s—”

               Young K stops short, looking like an idea just popped up in his mind.

               “You know what?” he says, reaching over to the shelf. “Why don’t...” He pulls out a book— “you find out for yourself?”

               He shows Dowoon the cover of the book and a grin; it’s another copy of The Little Prince.

               “Woah, really?” Young K nods, placing the book on top of the other one. “Wait, are you gonna pay for me?” Young K nods again, almost laughing.

               “It’s no problem,” he says. “I’d spend all my money to let everyone in the world to have a copy of this book. I’ll even pay for that book you're holding on now.”

               _Oh, shit, right—I almost forgot about that._ “Oh, uh, thanks! I really appreciate it. You know, this is, uh, one of my favorite books, too; I just love reading—”

               Dowoon looks down at the book in his hands, and frankly feels his soul slip away from his body.

               “ _‘My First Book of Korean Words’_ ,” he reads out loud, feeling a robotic grin on his face. He turns to Young K with the fakest, widest grin, feeling dead inside. “You know me!” he says, trying a shrug without looking like he wants to bang his head on a wall. “Still a… _child_ at heart.”

               Dowoon sees the way Young K is holding back laughter behind bitten lips.

               “Are you buying anything else?” he says, voice shaky.

               “No.”

               “There are more books under that series—”

               “I said, ‘No.’”

               Young K bites his lip harder but takes the book from Dowoon’s hand anyway, turning away with shoulders hunched in laughter. Dowoon just follows him to the counter, both palms pressed to his face.

               “Here you go, Seungminnie,” Young K says, placing the books next to the cash register. The store clerk from before glances at Dowoon once before turning back to the man in front of him. “Another purchase for this week.”

               The clerk—apparently, ‘Seungminnie’—replies with a professional smile on his face, quite unlike the guy who called Young K a daydream earlier (then again, Dowoon is the same). “Thank you, beloved customer,” he says. “It’s nice to see you again.”

               Seungminnie—probably just simply ‘Seungmin’—gives Dowoon a look as he runs the books under the scanner, telling him, _God, are you always such a mess?_

               _Shut up, I’m older than you,_ Dowoon says with a look, crossing his arms.

               _Better than a guy who pretends to buy—_ he looks down at one of the books— _freaking My First Book of Korean Words._

               _I panicked, okay? I_ fucking _panicked!_

               “Um,” Young K starts, having been looking between the two since they started communicating telepathically. “Do you guys know each other?”

               “No,” Dowoon immediately says as Seungmin says, “Yes.”

               Dowoon locks eyes with Seungmin with a, _Really?_

               And Seungmin says, _Don't worry, beloved hyung. I got this._

               The clerk clears his throat and addresses Young K.

               “Um, ‘yes’, because we know each other through friends of friends of friends—” Dowoon nods at Young K at that— “and ‘no’, because we don't really know each other that much, even though we often see each other, because of those friends of friends of friends. He's kind of a tsundere.”

               Dowoon looks at him, appalled, as Young K replies with a laugh.

               “Oh, I can relate,” he says, and Dowoon looks at _him_ , appalled. “We've known each other for over a month now, but it was only today that he acknowledged that we were friends.”

               “What? When did I do _that_?” Dowoon looks at _himself_ , appalled. 

               “When we were chatting online earlier?” Young K points out, turning to him. “And I teased you and you said, ‘This friendship is over’? I was actually surprised you even called it that and not some ‘business partnership’, or whatever.”

               “Well, technically that _is_ what it is!” Dowoon crosses his arms. 

               “Either way, I’m _honored_ to be your friend, Tsundere-sunbaenim.”

               Dowoon rolls his eyes. “Keep going like that, and that ‘friend’ title is gonna change.”

               Young K smiles at that.

               “Looking forward to it.”

               Dowoon is taken aback at that and turns away immediately, heart suddenly racing. _He doesn't mean it like that he can't_ _mean it like that can he no no no of course not ugh why why why why—_

               “Here is your purchase, beloved customers,” Seungmin says, and Dowoon snaps out of it.

               Young K blinks down at the two paper bags on the counter. “Shouldn't there only be one?” he asks.

               “Oh, I divided it between which purchase is whose.” Seungmin hands Young K one paper bag— “This one is for the beloved customer who bought The Little Prince—” he hands Dowoon the other— “and this is for the one who’s still a child at heart.”

               Dowoon sticks his tongue into the wall of his mouth as he receives the bag with a vengeful look, Young K turned away with hunched shoulders shaking with laughter. Seungmin smiles at the both of them with delight.

               “Thank you for visiting this bookshop, dear customers,” he says. “Have a wonderful day.”

 

“Will you stop laughing; you're making other people look,” Dowoon deadpans, looking forward with Pandora’s Box tucked under his hand. 

               “I’m sorry—it’s just—” Young K bursts out laughing again, shoulders shaking up and down; a little boy points at him this time, before his parents quickly bring him away. (“Look, Pa! That hyung is laughing!” “Don't be rude, Yeonjun-ah. He’s clearly going through something.”) “Seungminnie burned you _so. Hard_.”

               Young K cackles again and Dowoon rolls his eyes, deciding to no longer say anything if it means not hearing any more of this. But damn him if he doesn't wanna say something _so. Bad._

               The two of them are currently walking next to each other on the sidewalk, having left the bookshop a few minutes ago. Dowoon’s apartment is, like, in the other direction, but he doesn't really mind the detour. Or the company. No matter how annoying of a company it is.

               “God, I don't think I've ever witnessed anything funnier in my entire life,” Young K says, wiping a tear and trying to calm himself down. “And Wonpil once jumped Heechul-ssi and bit his head.”

               “He _bit_ his _head_?” Dowoon turns to him, incredulous. 

               “He bit on his sandwich first!” Young K shrugs with a shake of the head. “Or at least that's what Wonpil said. Sungjin-ssi pulled him away, but Heechul-ssi still has scars. Both on his head—and in his _soul_.”

               Young K makes a mock-dramatic face at that, and Dowoon giggles, finding it amusing.

               They continue on in their walk, now reaching the part of the sidewalk with no flower bushes.

               “Well, in any case, thank you for buying this for me,” Dowoon says, gesturing with his paper bag. “I’ll make sure to read it as soon as I get home.”

               “The Little Prince, or My First Book of—”

               Dowoon kicks Young K in the shin, and the man yelps, almost falling to the ground. “The Little Prince, you fucking half-wit.”

               Dowoon rolls his eyes as Young K comes to, now turning them to the package in his hands. “It’s been a while since I've read, actually,” he says. “I’m not really the type of person to… well, _read_.”

               “Funny that the ‘force of nature’ called you to a bookshop, then?”

               _Fuck, I forgot about that._ “Yeah, haha! What a doozy.” Dowoon attempts a casual shrug. “As a great philosopher once said, there is more person more pitiful than a person who can read but doesn’t.”

               Young K furrows his eyebrows. “Which one is that?”

               “I don't know; I saw it on Twitter.”

               Young K breathes a laughter at that, before turning forward.

               “You know, you should read more often,” he says, and Dowoon glances up at him. “There are a lot of things you could learn from just reading alone. Like how to live your life, how to live a _good_ life, and, well, how to live. Every single story you read is a retelling of someone else’s life, what it really was, what it could be, what it could've _been._ Even if the characters are fictional, the person who wrote them up isn't, and you can see bits and pieces of who they are with every letter they chose to be a part of that book. Whether or not they intended to.

               “It’s kinda like every single book is a reflection of the author, their values, their morals. Like a reassessment of what they believe in, and what they think _you_ should believe in, and why they believe in it. It could be through the message of the story itself, or the way the characters interact with one another, or how the world was built, or how the words are structured—all of it is basically the author telling you, ‘This is me. This is what I ought to be.’

               “Even a cookbook can give away so many things. The author’s favorite food, their favorite flavors—some cookbooks even include little snippets of the time they learned to cook it. Or what the food means to them. Doesn't matter what kind of book it is. If it was written, it was written with care, with a purpose in mind. There was something that the author wanted to do, when they published that book. Something that they wanted their _readers_ to do, once they were finished.

“So, I suggest that you read more. Because there’s just a whole world out there waiting for you. And it’s already right here, just at your fingertips.”

               They fall into a comfortable silence, with Young K looking forward and Dowoon looking down at the package he holds in his hands. Pandora’s Box. He thinks for a few more moments.

               “Once I’m finished reading,” Dowoon says, and he feels Young K turn to him, “do you think you could recommend me a few books?” He looks up at him.

               And finds a slow smile crawling its way up Young K’s face, beautiful brown eyes crinkling behind his eyeglasses. As if Dowoon was an open book, and Young K was reading every word.

               “Of course,” he says. “I have lots I think you’d love to read.”

               “Great.” Dowoon smiles up at him. “Looking forward to it.”

               If the package in his hand really is Pandora’s Box, then he guesses he’ll have to see to it ‘til the end.

               They reach a corner in the sidewalk, right where a pedestrian line crosses its way to another block, and it is at that moment that Young K asks him a question.

               “Hey, uh,” he starts, scratching his neck, “have you eaten yet?”

               “No.” Dowoon shakes his head. “I was just planning on eating at home.”

               “Oh, uh… I see. That's cool. Homemade food is the best.”

               Dowoon furrows his eyebrows at him, finding it weird how he's glancing away and still scratching his neck (is it _that_ bad of an itch?). He wonders why he’s acting like this; this isn't a Young K he’s familiar with.

               He decides to prod him further, because why not?

               “Why do you ask?” he says, turning to him.

               “Well, uh…” Young K clears his throat, still not looking at him. “There's this really good galbi house that I know. A little bit on the expensive side, but the food is honestly worth it.”

               Dowoon blinks at him, unable to connect the dots.

               “And?” he pushes, wondering what Young K is on about.

               The man lets out a sigh and finally looks at him, putting his hand down.

               “And…” he continues, “I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come eat there… with me?”

               Dowoon feels his lips part at that, heat rising up to his cheeks. _Is he—? Is he actually—? No, no, of course not, that can't be—_

               “Only if you're okay with it!” Young K immediately adds, probably sensing Dowoon’s distress. “I mean, I get it, you know, if you don't want to, since you don't exactly like being associated with me in public—”

               “No! No—I mean—” Dowoon bites his lip. _This is okay, this is fine._ “I want to. I’d love to eat with you.”

               A lopsided grin clumsily travels up Young K’s face.

               “Great! Great. That's great,” he says, then points behind him with a thumb. “Let's get going, then?”

               “Yeah! Yeah. Of course.” Dowoon immediately comes over to him, following him wherever he leads him. “Let’s go.”

               Dowoon looks down at his feet with a stupid grin on his face, watching his black shoes walk with Young K’s white ones. Compared to his, Dowoon's is practically brand new, not a single dirty speck or worn piece of fabric—though that’s because he doesn't wear them often. He wonders which one of them loves their shoes more, then, in that situation.

               “By the way, are you paying?” Dowoon asks, looking up at Young K as they continue walking. 

               He lets out a laughter at that. “Yes, Dowoon, I am paying,” he says, looking down at him with a smile in his eyes, lips grinning. “You’re really turning me out to be a sugar daddy, aren’t you?”

               “Psh, please.” Dowoon scoffs at that, looking forward. “You're my sugar friend.”

               At that, Young K stops in his steps for a moment. Just a brief moment.

               But then he’s walking right next to Dowoon again, as if he never faltered.

               “Right. Of course,” he says, lips smiling. “How could I ever think otherwise?”

               And it's an odd question, one that makes Dowoon look at him with a furrow in his eyebrows, but Young K just smiles back at him, teeth hidden behind lips, and he decides it must've been rhetorical. A question that Dowoon needn't answer, as it is already obvious what the answer would be.

               Though what exactly the answer is, Dowoon doesn't know.

              

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- we going angst road, fellas, get in the freaking car >:3c  
> \- also this chapter ended differently from what was planned again, like the last chapter. there was supposed to be a scene after this, buuuuuuut this seemed like a good place to end it ^^  
> \- also if i had a hundred philippine pesos for every time i corrected something in this chapter i’d be filthy freaking rich  
> \- songs in my head during the chapter: “pagtingin” by ben&ben  (istg i am never gonna get tired of this artist for my whole life)  
> \- shout-out to seungmin  
> \- also the title is related to the chapter in that My First Book of Korean Words Was Supposed to be "Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends: Beach Cruise" But I Don't Think They Have That in Korea
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	7. It Was the Nudes Wasn't It, Fucking Nudes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw!!

The door closes with a soft _thud_ , and Jaehyung tears his eyes away from his laptop to turn to the person who just came in, three hours after he went out.

            “Hey, you missed lunch,” he says, looking. “Eomeo-nim called you t—what the absolute fuck.”

            Dowoon just bursts into a fit of giggles as he keeps the wide grin on his face, the crinkle in his eyes not having left since he left the restaurant. He bends down to untie his shoelaces, suddenly giggles again, and buries his face in his knees, the laughter almost revolting.

            “Are you okay?” Jaehyung asks, still staring, horrified. “What the fuck happened to you? Are you drunk? Are you _high_? Did you see something so terrifying that daily life is so beautiful? What the fuck.”

            Dowoon just lifts his face from his knees and chuckles at him, grin wide and cheeky. He finishes untying his shoelaces, walks over to Jaehyung, and wraps two arms around him, the older too shocked to respond.

            “Hyung, you're such a hard worker,” Dowoon giggles. “I love and appreciate you _so_ much.”

            Dowoon places a kiss on his forehead, and Jaehyung almost screeches, wondering who the fuck replaced his brother-in-law with this horrible, _horrible_ piece of nature. 

            The horrible, _horrible_ piece of nature just pats Jaehyung’s head before skipping on over to his room with a cheery hum on his lips and closing the door with a soft _thud_.

            Then Dowoon absolutely _squeals_ as loud and as high-pitched as he can, and he _plunges_ his face into his bedsheets, burying his head into a pillow and feeling like he's a teenager all over again—but not caring one _fucking_ bit.

            Oh, how he is on a fucking high right now. Oh, how it feels like he's walking on fucking clouds and flying in the fucking air and squealing like a fucking three-year-old being lifted high up into the sky and feeling like he'll never come down from the absolute _euphoria_ he is in right now. Oh, god, how fucking good it feels. Oh, god, how fucking happy he _is_.

            The moment he and Young K bid each other goodbye at the galbi house, Dowoon had immediately started jumping and squealing like a madman, unable to contain the happiness in his heart. He ran all the way home with his face buried into his hoodie, jumped into the air with a fist raised like fucking Mario, and greeted all passersby with a “What a wonderful day, good citizen!” and an overly enthusiastic handshake just often enough to not get arrested for perceived harassment.

            He just couldn't stop himself from letting out all the joy because of all that happened today, and all that happened in the restaurant. The two of them hung out like they'd been friends for _years_ , all laughter and jokes and good food shared between the conversations. Dowoon found himself letting go of all reins that bound him to stay behind the line he drew on the ground to separate him from Young K, and found himself leaping onto the other side, jumping into his arms, smiling and laughing with him and wishing he could do more than just be by his side.

            He told him all the embarrassing stories from his high school years, all the little tiny secrets he never told anyone else, all the rants he's had about the world and less and have been wanting to throw out there since the beginning of time.

            He told him about his disaster of a hairdo in first year when he thought cutting his own hair was a good idea, he told him about the fan account he made of his most favorite idol and all the thirsty tweets he had ever made about him, he told him every single thing he hated about his brother-in-law and why Dowoon fucking deserved to live alone, and he told him every single thing he loved about his family—even Park Jaehyung.

            Since the beginning, since that day in the park, Dowoon has never—not even fucking once—been able to stop himself from telling Young K all the unnecessary TMI details about his entire life. From his emo days during the first semester of college, to that time he peed his pants during third year because someone told him that there was a ghost behind him. From his favorite shirt to wear, to his least favorite TV show to watch. 

            All of it Dowoon finds leaving his mouth before he could move to stop it, and he knows more than anyone that ever since the day he accepted that picture-taking job, he'd been treading dangerous, dangerous waters. But the thing about Young K, and the reason why Dowoon doesn't even try anymore to stop himself, is that that man makes him feel so fucking safe even in a situation where red lights are blaring everywhere.

            Young K makes him feel like he can tell him anything and never receive anything more than a light-hearted teasing and a smile. Young K makes him feel like he can be anyone around him, be himself around him, that he can be embarrassed though he doesn't have to be. Young K makes it so easy to smile at him, laugh with him, and joke with him, tease back at him, because Dowoon senses no ill will at all. Just a guy having fun and making Dowoon have fun. Just a good guy better than anyone Dowoon's ever met.

            And when they sat next to each other on the restaurant floor, with the food on the low table in front of them, and their shoulders almost pressed onto each other, Dowoon was convinced that Young K was the best man alive. With the way he smiled at him like there was nothing else he wanted to look at in the universe. With the way his beautiful, beautiful brown eyes crinkled behind glass. With the way his white hair fell a little bit over them, blocking off both their views.

            With the way Dowoon reached up to tuck that lock of hair behind his ear. With the way their eyes stared at each other, for minutes, for hours.

            With the way Dowoon quickly turned away to stuff his face with meat, because no way in heck was he ever going to deal with whatever reaction Young K’s face made at that instant.

            Dowoon’s heart kept pounding so loudly in his chest he almost wasn't able to hear whatever Young K was saying for the rest of those three hours. Heart aching so painfully in that almost-love way that he had trouble looking Young K in the eye. But despite that he found laughter leaving his lips, almost spilling all over his shirt when Young K told him a really funny joke.

            And breath leaving his lips when Young K wiped the corner of it with a napkin, making him mesmerized beyond belief.

            He was mesmerized as Young K told him all his embarrassing stories, mesmerized at the puff of pink powder dusted on his cheeks. He was mesmerized as Young K told him he once snuck into a concert for his favorite band and ultimately got kicked out because he didn't know recording wasn't allowed, mesmerized at the laugh he hid behind an open palm. He was mesmerized as Young K struggled to tell him everything he loved about The Little Prince without giving any spoilers, mesmerized at the automatic smile that pulled at his lips. And he was mesmerized because all Dowoon could think about was, “With the countless smiles I've seen on your face, how come I’ve never gotten tired of them?”

            Because Dowoon likes everything about Young K, even all the parts he likes to hate. Because Dowoon likes liking him and the crush he has for him, even though he knows to never pursue it. Because Dowoon likes it when he smiles, because that means he's happy, and Dowoon would love nothing more than him and his happiness.

            So when they bid each other goodbye and Dowoon made sure that Young K had gone around the corner, all the happiness that had piled up in his heart immediately burst out and left him jumping for absolute joy at what a good time it was to be with Young K for three hours, even as just friends. All the squeals, all the cringe-y feels—it was like fireworks lighting up the sky, the initial spark now high up at night. There was no other instance where Dowoon felt this happy, this nice, and this good. No other moment that had him smiling so uncharacteristically widely that his brother-in-law looked like he was actually considering to get an exorcist. But god, does he not even care. God, does he not care at all.

             And now, with his head in the clouds, his eyes on the ceiling, and his phone on his chest, Dowoon lets an unabashed, unembarrassed smile onto his face, relishing the moment he doesn't reprimand himself for daydreaming about a false hope. Letting himself like Young K, for just a few more minutes—and perhaps, a few more days.

            Dowoon removes his phone from his chest and stares up at the screen for a few moments, contemplating the whys and the what ifs. 

            Then he decides _Fuck it_ and presses send as soon as he's done typing.

            The reply is almost instant.

**Me**

hey did you get home safe

**Annoying Asshole**

:0

oh my god is he actually sending the first text holy shit i am a key witness to a turning point in history 

 

            Dowoon rolls his eyes but replies anyway.

**Me**

shut up annoying asshole i was just bored

**Annoying Asshole**

hes using my nickname this is true love indeed :’)

**Me**

i swear to fucking god you are unbelievable  

did you get home safely or not

**Annoying Asshole**

_Annoying Asshole sent a photo._

safe and sound as ever, beautiful bby boi uwu

hbu?

 

            Dowoon lags for a few moments, staring at the photo Young K sent him. It's a selfie of him lying down on one side on his bed, with one eye closed in a wink and his lips in the middle of a laughy grin. And with the way Dowoon can see his bare shoulders pressing onto white bedsheets, he can tell he's shirtless.

            Um.

            Holy fucking shit.

 

**Annoying Asshole**

yo are you leaving me on read again your brother in law isnt trying to get your phone again is he

do i have to send you sexts

do you want nudes

actually maybe you dont want nudes

 

            Dowoon bites his lip, only slightly because of the idea of nudes. Should he—? Would it be too weird? Would it make things awkward, or—?

 

**Annoying Asshole**

then again youve been seeing nudes of me for two months now

tho im not sure if you can count those as nudes if youre the one taking them

 

            Then, Dowoon, yet again, decides _Fuck it_ and closes the messaging app to open a different one.

 

**Annoying Asshole**

oh my god he left the chat he left me for dead

damn it was the nudes wasnt it fucking nudes

**Me**

_You sent a photo._

um no it wasnt the nudes

 

            Dowoon feels his face heat up at the sight of the photo he just sent, the embarrassment almost unbearable as Young K takes a while to reply. It’s a selfie of him lying down on his bed, phone up in the air as he sends the camera a poker face and a peace sign. He looks fine and he knows his looks are fairly decent, but _fuuuck_ if he doesn't want to delete that picture immediately because _aaaaAAAA WHY!!!???!?!?!?!???_

            But then Young K finally sends his reply.

 

**Annoying Asshole**

:0

:000

:000000000000

:000000000000000000000000000

**Me**

stop typing zeroes youre flooding this stupid chat

**Annoying Asshole**

:00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

sorry its just

i just

holy fucking shit

i mean

i mean

holy fuck uh

you 

you look really fucking hot

BEIATFIL

I MEAN BEAUTIFUL

I MEAN FUCK

UM

FUCK

FUCK????????

I MEAN

HOLY SHIT

UM

ok put down the all caps hahahahahahahahahahahaha

um

fuck

 

            Dowoon stares with wide eyes at the flurry of flustered messages Young K sent him. Um. Holy shit?

**Me**

um

holy shit

**Annoying Asshole**

sorry sorry sorry

i mean i always knew you were a handsome guy but holy shit

um

you should send more pictures 

i think that would make the world a better place

**Me**

you are so fucking akajsks

but uh thanks, i guess??

for reacting that way, i guess??

i mean, i know i look decent but i didnt think anyone would react that way

**Annoying Asshole**

DECENT????

dowoon you are MORE than decent let me tell you

you look like you were sculpted with the GREEK GODS AS REFERENCE

i bet even aphrodite is fucking jealous of you

you ever heard of hercules???? thATS FUCKING YOU

**Me**

*tiny voice* oh my god

**Annoying Asshole**

i swear to you i am not lying

you are honestly so pretty 

like really REALLY pretty

and you are so beautiful to me

really really beautiful

**Me**

you really think so?

**Annoying Asshole**

i know so, you can count on it

i gotta go crash now, see you in a few days

heard kevin-ssi has some new plans for me

**Me**

alright, sleep well

and thank you

**Annoying Asshole**

_Annoying Asshole sent a photo._

good night <3 and youre welcome, beautiful

           

            Dowoon finds a small smile creep up his face as he reads and rereads that last message, and the photo paired with it. It’s another selfie of Young K smiling at the camera with that beautiful grin of his, cheeks dusted a little pink. Eyes their beautiful shade of brown. That when faced with the sun turn golden. Dowoon knows that because he's always looking at them, whether under light or shade. 

            With every smile that Young K sends him, how _is_ it that Dowoon doesn't get tired of seeing it? And with every arrow he shoots at his chest, why does Dowoon never move to avoid it? And with every passing moment that Dowoon reminds himself not to get too hopeful, why doesn't he just stop whatever this is to finally end it?

            It's amazing, just how much control Young K has over him, without even doing more than just being there. And it's amazing, just how much Dowoon has started to feel for him, in just a short span of two months. It has come to the point that Dowoon doesn't even try to stop it anymore, knowing exactly how it's going to end. The world can be cruel like that sometimes, making you do exactly as you never wanted to.

            But despite that, Dowoon likes it. Dowoon likes doing all the things he never thought he would do. He likes getting out of his comfort zone, he likes learning new things about people he never thought he'd associate himself with, and he likes falling for Young K. Bit by bit. Slowly but surely. With no handlebars to hold onto.

            It’s risky, but Dowoon has been taking risks since the beginning. And if it's for someone who makes him feel safe, who cares about the dangers of it?

            That is the exact thought process that Dowoon goes through, as he opens up Young K’s latest selfie and saves it as his home wallpaper, keeping the picture of his cat and dog back in Busan  as his lock screen. And it is the same thought process that goes through his mind when he spots the paper bag he brought with him and immediately starts reading The Little Prince, unashamedly tossing his first Korean words somewhere behind him.

            It's a thought process that makes Dowoon forget just how cruel fate can be, makes him forget the reason why he drew that line in the first place. For Dowoon's heart is fragile, and so easily broken, and he knows that more than anyone.

            He drew that line so he could prevent himself from getting hit. He had been preparing his heart for the worse.

            And now, all preparations have been tossed and thrown out the window.

            So that when the car comes speeding in his direction, he'll have nothing to protect him.

            That is how cruel fate can be.

 

Dowoon happily skips on his way across the set, his camera safely held between two protective hands. He cheerily greets everyone he passes by with a grin and a “Wonderful morning today, beautiful coworker!” just often enough to get weirded-out looks. 

            Dowoon giggles to himself as he makes his way over to Kevin over there, who's currently bent down and checking on something in his laptop. He's been in a good mood ever since yesterday, and even more so when he finally finished reading The Little Prince. He absolutely loved the story and actually cried more than once. Who knew reading could be so fulfilling?

            He can't wait to tell Young K all about it—after they're done shooting, of course, hashtag ~professional~. And he can't wait for the other book recommendations Young K promised him, because if The Little Prince was any indication, he's sure to love _all_ of them! Ohhh, he can't wait!

            “Wonderful morning today, Kevin-ssi!” Dowoon greets the manager with a loud slap on the back, making him plunge his head into his laptop. “Ready to get some work done?”

            “Woah, you're awfully cheery today,” Kevin says with a breath of laughter and a hand massaging… his entire face, really. “Something good happen recently?”

            Dowoon chuckles with a grin and two hands on his hips. “Something like that. Ughhh, I’m in _such_ a good mood today—I swear I can shoot, like, a thousand photos just for this morning.”

            “Well, I am _more_ than glad to hear that, because today—” Kevin grins. “You're gonna be doing something entirely new.”

            Dowoon brings up a “Hwaiting!” fist. “Bring it on, Kevin-ssi—I can do _anything_!” he almost shouts, entire body buzzing like bumblebees.

            Then, Kevin says what he has to do, and Dowoon feels a thousand stings pierce his body. A thousand bumblebees falling to the ground.

            “—the viewers have just been missing those kinds of photos from Young K-ssi, and with our _best_ photographer behind the comeback, we'll raking in millions! Hypothetically, of course, though the sentiment is still there.” Kevin chuckles. Then he spots the look on Dowoon's face. “What's wrong? Was it something I said?”

            But Dowoon doesn't hear him. All Dowoon hears now is the pair of voices coming slowly nearer to him from behind, one of them oh-so familiar to his ears.

            “It’s been a long time since you've filmed this sort of thing, huh, Young K-ssi? Ever since you had that new photographer?”

            “Yeah, it has, though thank god he isn't the one who'll be shooting us. By the way, your boyfriend is a menace.”

            “Don't worry—I made sure he isn't going to try to bite you today, though he _is_ currently biting on Heechul-ssi’s arm right now.”

            “I’m just glad it isn't m—”

            The voice stops just as Dowoon turns to look at the both of them, already knowing whose face he'll be seeing.

            Young K, in the flesh, white hair parted in the middle, wide eyes staring at him as his lips part ever-so-slowly.

            And Sungjin, right next to him, looking so ever-professional with the way he holds himself.

            Young K snaps out of it and whips his head at Kevin, who's in the middle of, “Ayyy, there are my two favorite stars—”

            “Manager-nim, I thought you said Minghao-ssi was going to film us,” he says, giving him an almost frenzied look.

            “Yeah, I _did_ ,” Kevin admits with a shrug and an “oh well” look on his face, “but Minghao-ssi called to say that he was in charge of his _model_ boyfriend's photoshoot for a national magazine, so I called in the next-best thing!”

            He pulls Dowoon over to his side, and Dowoon gets deja vu of the first time he went on this set—though the feeling now is completely different.

            “Dowoon-ssi hasn't shot for a double-set photoshoot before, but with his talent, I bet he can pull it off!” Kevin gushes. “Plus, you said you were in a good mood, right? Apparently, something good happened to him recently.”

            Young K’s eyes immediately glance at him, then, and Dowoon looks at him for a brief moment, before looking away.

            “Yeah… something like that…” he says, faltering.

            “Great!” Kevin prompts, letting go of Dowoon. “I’ll leave you three to it, then! Oh, I can already see that beautiful graph shooting up the charts. And Sungjin-ssi’s first man-to-man role with Young K-ss— shoot, Wonpil-ssi’s glaring at me.”

            “Let's head on over to Set C, then,” Sungjin says, looking like he wants to get this over and done with. “Let's get this over and done with before Pil-ah bites Heechul-ssi’s arm off.”

            He stops on his way to the set when he notices neither Young K nor Dowoon following him.

            He watches as Young K stares straight at Dowoon, as the latter stares at the ground, fingers wrapped around his camera. If Sungjin knew any better, he'd say that the photographer looked stricken, or disappointed. Like it was his birthday, and he had all the food and decorations set up, and was waiting for all his friends to come over, but no one showed up.

            But who was he to probe into other people's business? Sungjin took this job for one reason and one reason only; he doesn't need to meddle with other people's private lives.

            So he turns away and continues on his way to Set C, the other two following after him, after a short, quiet while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES  
> \- songs in my head during this chapter : dream glow, bts; also one of those royalty free songs they play on youtube  
> \- also just putting it out there that my mom was playing maher zain's number one while i was writing this and it was really distracting  
> \- ~~also another difficult chapter to write, just couldnt get the flow, but the magic of editing does wonders so hopefully ill fix this soon~~ it was wonderful this chapter was wonderful i have no idea why i doubted myself this was wonderful  
> \- also that scene where dowoon was jumping around in the streets and shaking hands of randmo strangers was high-key inspired by a scene from Tamen de Gushi (HIGHLY recommend btw, you should read it)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you have a wonderful day 💙
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	8. Omega-3 as Alleviation for Drinking Idiot Juice: A Multivariate Analysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW: undressing, teasing, and someone being really, really sad having to watch it

“—woon-ssi. Dowoon-ssi. _Dowoon-ssi!_ ”

               Dowoon snaps out of it and whips his head up to the scene before him, finally coming to. Young K and Sungjin are staring at him, the latter indifferent and the former concerned. They’re currently in Set C, which is designed to be a bedroom.

               “You've been spacing out,” Young K tells him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You're not sick, are you?”

               “No! No. I’m not sick,” Dowoon assures him, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand. “Sorry, sorry—what were we talking about?”

               “Me and Young K-ssi were discussing which one of us should be the top or the bottom in this photoshoot,” Sungjin informs him. “It's only a teasing photoset, but the viewers are really adamant about that sort of thing.”

               “And since you're the photographer for this shoot, we figured it would be best if you decide,” Young K finishes, still looking at him as if he expected Dowoon to fall over at any moment.

               _Best… that_ I _decide..._

               Dowoon doesn't answer for a moment, and Young K furrows his eyebrows further.

               “You sure you're okay?” he asks.

               Dowoon tries a smile.

               “Of… course, I am,” he says. “When have I never?”

               Ever since Kevin told him that he was going to shoot a double-person set, Dowoon has been completely out of it, energy drained out of him, spacing out like Young K said. He had been in such high spirits just a few minutes before that now that that announcement was made, it felt like the world was crashing down on him, him crashing down on the world.

               It’s just so stupid. After days and weeks of holding himself back, of telling himself to push away the feelings he never wanted to be there in the first place, of standing behind the line he drew so he could protect himself—

               After all the effort he took in order to not get hurt, now his heart is in absolute pieces, and it's all his fault.

               It's all his fault for letting himself like him, knowing for a fact that he would never be his. It's all his fault for giving himself hope, knowing since the beginning how false it really was. And it's all his fault for letting himself be happy, for letting himself be _recklessly_ happy, for forgetting just how cruel the world can be, to people who would rather just sleep.

               And it's even more stupid that he's feeling this down, feeling this devastated, when he'd already known the kind of job Young K was a part of since the beginning. He _saw_ pictures of him kissing another man, he _watched_ him have sex with a woman, he'd already known this since the beginning! Dowoon knew this. Dowoon _knows_ this.

               But things have changed since the beginning. In the beginning, all Dowoon felt for him was a tiny crush, a tiny spark, just small enough for him to crush beneath his fingers the moment he sees it becoming too dangerous. He didn't care if Young K had relationships with other people. He didn't care whoever kissed Young K, or whoever had sex with him, because in the beginning, Young K wasn't special to him at all.

               But now he is. Now that Dowoon let himself know who _he_ is.

               A funny, attractive guy whose laugh brings Dowoon high up in the heavens. A sweet, annoying man who teases him but is quick to say sorry when he thinks he went too far. And a wonderful, _beautiful_ person with those beautiful, beautiful brown eyes that which Dowoon's heart had been pointing to the moment he spotted them.

               With every passing day, with every passing moment that Dowoon spent with him, he found himself falling more and more and more. Grass catching fire on the ground. Butterflies flying higher and higher. Shooting stars falling down and telling him he needn't wish on them any longer, because his dream can already be fulfilled, down here.

               Dowoon didn't have a crush on him anymore. A crush is too small to describe all that he's feeling for him. He _likes_ him. Like he likes someone he wants to hold hands with. Like he likes someone he wants to share a million kisses with. Like he likes someone he wants to be with forever. Like he likes someone who would tell him he likes him back.

               And he believed that letting himself feel it would make him happy. He believed that just feeling this way was going to make himself satisfied. But when fire is pressed onto grass, it stops at nothing to burn everything around it to ashes. And Dowoon doesn't think he'll ever be satisfied.

               He knows they're not dating. Dowoon knows that Young K doesn't like him back, and would never like him back, and that they would never end up together,

               But unlike Sungjin and Wonpil, Dowoon doesn't think he wants to share.

               “—oon-ssi. Dowoon-ssi!”

               But he has to. Because that is his job. And Young K’s job.

               “For fuck’s sake, listen to me—”

               Besides,

               “ _Dowoon!_ ”

               Not like he was ever his, anyway.

               Dowoon feels a pair of arms grab both his shoulders, and he looks up to see Young K looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in a combination of worry and frustration.

               “Stop. Spacing. _Out_ ,” he tells him, and Dowoon spots Sungjin standing by the wall with a raised eyebrow directed at the both of them. “Honestly. What's gotten into you? If you don’t feel well, you should call it a day.”

               If he wants to keep this job, he has to be professional.

               Dowoon lets out a laugh, gently removing Young K’s hands from his shoulders.

               “You worry too much,” he says, patting him on the shoulders with both hands. “I was just thinking about that top-bottom thing! I've decided that you should be the bottom, because those photos of you being all submissive and stuff are the most popular among viewers, and Sungjin-ssi should be the top, because that's what most viewers know of him. Sound good?” 

               “I’m fine with it,” Sungjin calls from the near distance, arms crossed from where he leans on the wall.

               Meanwhile, Young K is still looking at Dowoon, worried. He turns to him with a professional smile on his face.

               “And Young K-ssi?” he prompts.

               “I…” he starts. “I’m fine with it, if you're fine with it.”

               Dowoon feels a nail prick his heart.

               “Of… course, I am,” he says with a smile. “Why wouldn't I be? Let's get to work.”

               Dowoon stands by the wall checking his camera as Sungjin and Young K get on the bed, still fully clothed. They're supposed to shoot a teasing photoshoot today, with some undressing service and shots to make it look like something is happening when really there isn't. There won't be much action, as sex scenes are more popularly received through a video format, but Dowoon still finds himself struggling to keep his professionalism, wanting to run to his bed and cry himself to sleep. But he needs to keep his cool. He needs to. Because this isn't about him. This is about the company. He's replacing someone who was better for the job. He can't let anyone down. He just can't.

               “You guys ready?” Dowoon prompts, turning to the both of them. Sungjin is currently caging Young K, who's lying on the bed and looking at him. He feels a crack form on his heart, just a tiny bit. _Put your feelings aside, Dowoon. They don't matter here._

               Sungjin gives him a poker-faced thumbs-up, and Young K gives him a “Yeah, we're ready,” turning away with a sigh in his eyes.

               Dowoon looks through the lens and the shooting begins.

               Sungjin is on Young K immediately, pressing kisses on his neck, biting his neck, and making Young K tilt his head to give him better access, eyes closing in the pleasure of it. He presses his lips against his jaw, nibbles at his ear, and looks at the camera as if saying, “Look. Look at what's mine.”

               And Young K keeps his eyes closed in all of it, keeps his eyes closed as Sungjin undoes his shirt, button by button, and kisses every piece of skin that gets revealed, moving to push up his black undershirt the moment his lips reach his abdomen.

               And Dowoon keeps himself a statue in all this, focusing on getting the angles right, focusing on focusing on the right parts of the scene, focusing on all the technicalities to make this photoshoot a good one, now that his heart is no longer holding the camera. His mind is the one at work now. His mind is the one holding the reins.

               And it almost goes smoothly, even with every arc of the back that Young K makes, telling him he loves the feeling of someone else's lips on his. It almost goes out without a synch, even with pieces and pieces of Dowoon's heart falling onto the floor. 

               It almost does, but then Sungjin is removing his lips from Young K’s abdomen, reaching for his face.

               _No. Not that._

               Sungjin moves up slowly, eyes on one thing only.

               _Please. Anything but that._

               His fingers wrap around Young K’s cheek. Young K’s eyes open.

               _Please. Don't—_

               Young K’s eyes turn to him. Young K’s eyes widen.

               _Please_ ,

               _Don't kiss him._

               “AH, _FUCK_!”

               Dowoon drops his camera with a jolt, eyes widening at what just happened. Sungjin also pulls away, looking at Young K with wide eyes.

               Young K had just rammed his head against the headboard of the bed, effectively interrupting the photoshoot and possibly giving himself a concussion. He currently has his hand against the back of his head, face wincing in pain. It looks like he could be injured, but why would he—

               “I heard non-sexual screaming—what happened?” Kevin suddenly bursts into the room, immediately going over to Young K when he spots him.

               “Young K-ssi suddenly hit his head into the headboard—” Sungjin starts explaining—

               “I HEARD NON-SEXUAL SCREAMING—WHAT THE _FUCK_ HAPPENED?” Wonpil suddenly explodes into the room, the crack of the door loudly heard as he slams it against the wall.

               “Young K-ssi hit his head into the headboard,” Sungjin explains for him, as well.

               “Oh, so it wasn't you?” Wonpil asks, fire watered down to ashes.

               “No.”

               “Then, we're good,” he says, wrapping his arms around Sungjin and placing a kiss on the top of his head.

               Meanwhile, Young K is still wincing in pain from his incident.

               “God, be careful next time—how on Earth did this even happen?” Kevin asks, gesturing for Young K to put his hand down. “Let me see if— _shit_.”

               “What?” Sungjin asks, looking up at him.

               “Fuck.” Kevin puts his hand down. “Young K-ssi, you're _bleeding_.”

               “ _WHAT?_ ” Dowoon absolutely screeches, shooting up from where he had been frozen on the floor.

               He suddenly becomes aware of the four faces who now turn to him, all with varying degrees of, “Dowoon, what the hell?”

               He tries his best to cover himself up.

               “I mean—oh no! If he’s bleeding, we gotta get him to the hospital. We—we can't have our, uh… most photogenic guy injured. He needs to get better! For the—the betterment of the company…?”

               Dowoon is met with three judging faces at his statement. Kevin, meanwhile, is merciful.

               “Dowoon's right,” he says as Wonpil mumbles something like, “Most photogenic, my ass,” “you can't stay here injured like this. Someone's gotta get you to the hospital.”

               “I’ll do it,” Dowoon immediately volunteers, earning the looks of the other four once again. “I was the photographer for the shoot. I should be the one held responsible for the injury. I'll pay for the hospital bill myself.”

               “There's no need for that—this injury happened on our grounds; we'll pay for it ourselves,” Kevin says, “but thank you for offering to get him there. Make sure to watch over him well.”

               “I will.” Dowoon nods and immediately goes over to Young K as the others file out of the room, nerves filling up his entire body immediately.

               “Shit, shit, shit,” Dowoon mumbles as he hastily buttons on Young K’s shirt, the man silent for some reason. “We gotta get you to the hospital quick.”

               He finishes buttoning up Young K’s shirt and looks up to find him staring straight at him, brown eyes staring straight at him, looking beautiful even with this.

               Without thinking, Dowoon reaches a hand up and cups Young K’s cheek, needing to make sure Young K is really okay. He places their foreheads together, needing to be close to him, at this very moment, and finds the entire world spinning in his eyes, telling him, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

               Dowoon removes his hand and grabs Young K’s, telling him, “Come on, let's go.”

 

“Well, it seems you don't have a concussion, which is a good thing,” the doctor says, grabbing a pen, “but unfortunately it seems that you are an idiot, which is a bad thing.”

               Dowoon holds back his laughter as Young K looks to the ceiling with a completely-done-with-life expression, the doctor turning down with an indifferent face to write something on her white pad. 

               “I don't have a prescription for drinking idiot juice this morning as you obviously had since you _somehow_ hit yourself on a headboard without thinking,” she continues, still scribbling, “but if you notice any recurring headaches or you’re suddenly having trouble sleeping, come to me again.”

               She hands Dowoon the note, and he almost bursts out laughing once again, reading it. Young K doesn't even try to.

               “Have any of your clients ever told you you're rude,” he deadpans.

               “Why, yes—yes, they have,” she says. “Thank you for noticing.”

               Young K buries his face in his hand, and Dowoon just pats his shoulder, prompting him to get up.

               “Come on, hyung, let's get going,” he says, bowing at the doctor, whose name tag says her name is Kim Yongsun. “We need to get you a bottle of Omega-3 Fish Oil, to boost your mental ability. I think they have those at W Yakguk.”

 

Dowoon is still holding back laughter as they walk the walls of the hospital, making their way out of it. Young K has his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed, still completely done with life.

               “Will you stop laughing—you're making people look,” he grumbles, eyes in the middle of an eye roll.

               “I'm just paying you back for when you laughed at me because of Seungmin,” Dowoon giggles, arms holding on to his stomach, shoulders shaking. “Doctor Kim burned you _so. Hard_.”

               He continues laughing as they reach a quieter part of the hallway, one with less people in it. It looks more like a storage unit, or an office unit. There's an archway that leads to another hallway, that looks like it's formed in a rectangular “D” shape.

               “I’m glad to hear you don’t have a concussion though,” Dowoon says after calming down, laughter dimmed down to a relieved smile. “If you did, I would’ve freaked. Thank god you’re okay.”

               Dowoon continues down the hallway with a smile on his face, relieved that there’s nothing wrong with Young K, when he notices that he’s not following him. He turns around to find him stopped in his tracks, eyes staring straight at him, the both of them standing on either side of the archway.

               “Hyung?” he asks. “What are you doi—”

               “Hey,” Young K starts, as if he didn't hear him, “did you really mean that?”

               “Mean what?” Dowoon asks, confused.

               “When you said that I needed to go to the hospital. That the reason was because it was for the betterment of the company.”

               Dowoon finds his throat dry, nerves starting to travel all over again. Young K is staring at him with all seriousness in the world.

               “Of… course, I did,” he manages to say. “You're important to the company.”

               Young K keeps his eyes on him, gaze unwavering.

               “Is that the real reason?” he asks.

               “Of… course, it is—”

               “Then, why…” Young K starts, “did you look like you were about to cry when Sungjin was about to kiss me?”

               Throat, dry. Mind, blank. Nerves, everywhere.

               “Ah, what are you talking about?” Dowoon tries with a laugh. “Why would I—”

               “Stop _doing_ that!” 

               Dowoon startles, inadvertently taking a step back from Young K’s raised voice. He can see his fists shaking. He can see anger etched onto every part of his body. No—frustration. No—exasperation.

               Young K is staring at him with all the desperation in the world, frustrated, exasperated, as if everything he's been holding back up until now is finally coming up the surface.

               “ _Stop_ ,” he starts, voice shaky, “playing with me.”

               He takes a step forward. And another. And another. And Dowoon takes tiny steps back with every, staring at him with wide eyes.

               “Do you have any idea,” Young K says, still moving towards him, “how frustrating it is to be around you? How much torture it is? To talk to you? To hang out with you? To guess and second-guess every single one of your actions because none of them make any sense?”

               “What…” Dowoon starts, voice soft. “What are you—”

               “You don't make sense, Dowoon. Nothing you do makes any sense. You say one thing and then do another. You do one thing and then say another. You make me think you're one thing, and then suddenly you're something else. Why do you do that, Dowoon? Why do you keep doing that?”

               Young K keeps coming closer, with every pounding of the heart Dowoon feels against his chest.

               “Is it fun for you? Do you find this _entertaining_? To make it so _fucking_ hard to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what exactly is going on in that head of yours? You make me feel so fucking _crazy_ , _constantly_ trying to figure out everything you are, making me feel like I know you, then making me feel like I don’t know you at all. 

               “It’s _frustrating_ , Dowoon. Frustrating because I don't know how to feel about you, anymore. You make me feel so fucking _stupid_ for not being able to decipher a single thing about you, because you make it so difficult to know what you’re feeling, and if there's even anything— _anything_ —in there that feels even just a drop of something for me.”

               _‘For me,’_ he repeats in his head.

               “Why, Dowoon? Why do you keep doing this? Why do you make it _so_ hard to know _anything_ about you? Why do you keep making me guess, and second-guess, and fucking third-fourth-fifth guess everything about you because I just can’t read who you are? You can’t just keep playing with me, Dowoon. You can’t just keep _playing with my feelings_ like it’s fucking okay to do.”

               “Playing… with your feelings?” Dowoon says, voice faltering, eyes staring straight at him, eyes not having moved once.

               Young K finally reaches him. And places one arm next to him. Right where Dowoon's back presses onto the wall. Puts his face right in front of him.

               “Don't you fucking get it?” Young K asks, voice so low Dowoon wouldn't have heard it if they weren't so close. “Don't you fucking get why I’m always hanging with you? Why I asked for your number? Why I chat with you every day? Why I fucking asked you out yesterday? Why I’m ever around you in the first place?

               “Why is it that until now, you still don't get anything I do when I'm around you? Why is it that you are so dense, that you act as if everything I've been doing, everything I've been saying is because of anyone but you? Don't you fucking get why I hit my head against the board on _purpose_? For _you_?”

               “On purpose?” Dowoon repeats, still in shock. “For me?”

               “ _Yes_ , Dowoon,” Young K bitterly laughs. “On purpose. For you. Because I saw the way you held the camera like you didn't like what you were seeing. Because I saw the way you bit your lip like you were trying to hold back so many. Because I saw how glossy your eyes were, Dowoon. You weren't about to cry; you were _already_ crying.

               “I hit my head on that board because I didn't want to see you cry. I hit my head on that board because I didn't want to make you make that expression again. And I hit my head on that board, not only because I saw that you didn't want me to kiss Sungjin, but because I didn't want to kiss him, too. Do you know why, Dowoon? Do you know why?”

               Dowoon slowly shook his head, in tiny, tiny strokes.

               Young K brings his face closer to Dowoon, the closest it can possibly be, without either of their lips touching.

               “I _like_ you, Dowoon,” he whispers. “I like you in every sense of the word.

               “I like you like how someone likes someone enough to always want to hold their hand. I like you like how someone likes someone enough to always want to be with them. I like you like a boyfriend likes their boyfriend, like how Wonpil likes Sungjin, like how someone likes someone the moment they're about to propose to them. 

               “I like you like that, Dowoon. I like you like that.”

               And Dowoon says nothing to that, finding his mouth to be completely empty of words.

               “Now do you get why it's frustrating?” Young K asks. “To always hear, ‘Of course, I do,’ and ‘Of course, I don’t,’ as if it's that fucking obvious, and that fucking easy to know what's in your head? You make me second-guess everything you do, Dowoon. You make me reassess everything I ever believe you are because you keep changing who you are, and how you feel, how you think. How the fuck do you expect me to get inside your head?

               “You tell me I’m annoying, but you chat with me everyday. You call me an asshole, but you smile at me anyway. You tell me you don't want to be associated with me, but you're always around. And you tell me you don't care about me, but then offer to bring me here.

               “You pushed me away, but let me pull you to the park. You gave me your number, but you’re never the first one to text. You told me my job wasn't your thing, but then you show up the next day. And you said yes to the date, and then said no right away.

               “I’m not a mind reader, Dowoon. I never have, and I never will be. So, you can't expect me to know exactly what you're feeling when you act as if even _you_ don't know what you're feeling. I know exactly how I feel for you, Dowoon, and I’ll say it a million times if I have to. But it's frustrating when I don’t know if what I should be saying is ‘I like you,’ or ‘I like you, too.’”

               Dowoon doesn’t say anything. Just stares at looks at Young K. At how tired he looks. Anger watered down to ashes. Done. With this. With him. With… everything.

               “Don't you have anything to say to that?” Young K asks, whispering. “Aren't you going to say anything?”

               Dowoon doesn't. Young K sighs.

               “Forget it,” he says, putting down his arm. “I shouldn't have expected anything. Let’s just get back to the company. I’m sorry I yelled.”

               He pulls away and moves to leave the archway, heading for the exit without another look back.

               Then, Dowoon is reaching up and pulling him down and leaning in, crashing his lips into his. Kissing him. Kissing him like he's wanted to do since the beginning.

               Dowoon feels Young K freeze in shock, the man rigid, like a statue. Probably wondering what Dowoon is doing. Probably confused at everything that's been happening.

               But Dowoon isn't. Because now, everything is as clear as day.

               He pulls away and doesn't see Young K’s expression because he buries his face into his chest immediately, wrapping his arms tight around his torso. Even now he can't face it, being as pathetic as he knew himself to be. But even so, he still wants him to know that

               “I like you, too,” he says, voice muffled in Young K’s chest. “I swear to you, I do. And I’m sorry, too.

               “It's just… I guess it's because I never really believed that you could ever feel that way for me. That you feeling anything for me would be impossible. It didn't make sense to me, and you were always so flirty and teasing from the start, so I just thought you were that way to everyone, though now I realize that's not the case.

               “All my life, I've been protecting myself, my heart, from anyone who could hurt it. I didn't want my heart to be broken, like I've seen from the movies, from the people around me. I didn't know if I could handle it, and when I started feeling things for you, I wasn't sure if I could handle my heart getting broken by you. Not you. Anyone but you.

               “But I guess that, in the middle of trying to not get my heart broken, I ended up breaking yours. Made you feel like I was playing with you, and your feelings, making you feel like even I didn't know what to feel about you. But I did know, hyung, I knew from the very beginning. I was just stupid, and insecure, and insensitive. Didn't realize that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize I was hurting you so much. 

               “I guess it was because I thought that it was better to believe you didn't like me, than to believe you liked me, when you didn't. But now I see that it was better to believe that you _did_ like me, than to believe you didn't like me, when you did.

               “And I do like you. I promise you I do. Not just as a crush, or puppy love. Like, _like you_ like you. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn't.”

               Young K doesn't say anything for a while, and Dowoon is fine with that. After feeling frustrated for perhaps a month or more, maybe he's having a hard time accepting it. And maybe he won't even accept _Dowoon_ after this. But it's okay. Because Young K has made him happier than anyone else, even with this. And that's already enough for him.

               But as cruel as fate can be, it can also be kind. In ways that even we can never comprehend. For if Dowoon had never known that pain of seeing his beloved with another, he would have never known the joy of feeling Young K’s arms wrap around him at this moment, and the relief of feeling him bury his face into Dowoon’s neck.

               He would have never known the extent of the happiness it gave him, and in that way, fate is merciful.

               “Say that again,” Young K whispers, his breath sending tingles across Dowoon’s neck.

               A breath of relief leaves Dowoon’s lips as he hugs Young K back, feeling something warm envelop his heart. He hugs him tighter than he ever imagined he could, making an oath to never let go.

               “Say what again?” he whispers, resting his chin on Young K’s shoulder.

               “That you like me.”

               Dowoon feels a small smile pull up the corner of his lips.

               “I like you,” he tells him again, feeling the truth of it in every word.

               “Say it again.”

               “I like you.”

               “Again.”

               “I like you.”

               “One more time.”

               “... I like you.”

               “One more.”

               “Uh, I like you.”

               “Just _one_ more.”

               Dowoon laughs this time. “Hyung!”

               “Just _one_ more time,” Young K insists. “Just so I know you’re not bullshitting me.”

               At that, Dowoon smiles, feeling warm and soft, and puts his lips right next to Young K’s ear, just so he could hear him properly.

               “I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you.”

               And he promises it. Would say it a million times if he has to, if that would make Young K believe it.

               But it seems that he already has, with the way Dowoon feels the slowest smile spread across Young K’s face, right where it’s buried into Dowoon’s neck, right where he feels warmth burn brighter with it.

               “I like you, too.”

 

Cabinet door opening. Plastic hanger rattling. Cabinet door left open.

               “—what? No way—that actually happened?”

               Jacket draped over shoulders. Camera grabbed out of habit. Camera returned on its desk.

               “I swear that guy is a menace… Yeah, yeah, I’m almost—just need to grab some things.”

               Wallet pocketed. Mirror passed by. Mirror returned to again, just for double-checking.

               “Shut up, I’m not being meticulous! … You fucking—”

               Door opened. Footsteps on the floor. Bending down to tie his shoelaces.

               “Ugh, shut up! It’s completely normal to be like this on someone’s first—”

               “Who the hell are you talking to?”

               Dowoon looks up from where he’s struggling to tie his shoes with a phone tucked in between his shoulder, spotting Jaehyung looking over the couch with a raised eyebrow and a remote in his hands.

               “Wait—holy shit, are you on your _phone_?” Jaehyung continues, face a combination of amused and surprised. “Dowoon, you _never_ call anyone—well, except your mom, but I know for a fact that’s not your mom because I’m pretty sure I just heard you swear.

               “Who is it, Dowoon? Is it your boyfriend? It’s your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

               Dowoon purses his lips at the question, knowing that the person on the other side of the call can hear every word that comes out of Jaehyung’s mouth.

               So, he makes sure he hears every single word that comes out of his, as well.

               “Yeah, it is,” Dowoon says, ignoring the burn in his cheeks. “We've been dating for a week now. And I'm going on a date with him right now. What about it?”

               Jaehyung’s mouth opens in shock at Dowoon's boldness. And the person at the other end of the line is silent, as well—Dowoon imagines him to be the same.

               Dowoon just finishes tying his shoelaces, sends a “Be there in five, babe,” before ending the call, and stands up to leave his apartment, slamming the door behind him, satisfied.

               When he gets to the corner in the sidewalk where they promised to meet, Dowoon is reminded of that time he went out of his apartment that first instance. When he looked around at the buildings, lampposts, the fences, the people, the animals. When he reminded himself that there was a good side to everything. Where in life, there are ups and downs. And when you go down, you can always go up.

               Dowoon had thought after that he was staying in the downs of life.

               Turns out, things really had been looking up, after all.

               He feels someone cover his eyes with two palms, the familiar scent of a familiar cologne immediately wafting through the air. He feels a wide smile break into his face the moment he hears that familiar voice, hears it like melody to his ears.

               "Guess who?" he says, as if he needs to.

              

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- songs in my head during this chapter: travel (bolbbalgan4), turn up (twice), gogobebe (mamamoo)  
> \- also. do you know. how FRUSTRATING it is. to write one of THE climaxes in a story. when your tablet. is lagging SO bad???? i had to switch from google docs to writing in my memos because it was really, REALLY bad. so, you. with the good-quality mobile devices. be mcFREAKING grateful, or i will skinnnn you.  
> \- also that D-shaped archway from the hospital is patterned to the D-shaped archway of my university. yeet
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you have a wonderful day 💙
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	9. Hello, Sexy Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw !!!!!

Dowoon hums for a moment, deciding to prolong it for a bit more.

            “Hmmm... let me see,” he says, eyes closed behind the blocked view of his boyfriend’s hands. He playfully taps a thinking finger on his cheek. “Who on Earth do I know who’s annoying, a prick, who I now know is five centimeters shorter than me, since Kevin-ssi told me his height—”

            “I will fucking kill that guy.”

            “—and who promised to meet me on this fine Saturday, with the light shining a beautiful beacon overhead at eleven in the morning, and who promised to pay for all the expenses that will be spent ‘till the afternoon?”

            Dowoon dramatically gasps, putting his thinking finger up in the air and converting it to a lightbulb.

            “I know!” he mock-exclaims, already feeling the person behind him rolling his eyes. “It's my unfortunate boyfriend of one week: Mr Young K-ssi, bane-of-my-existence extraordinaire!”

            Dowoon hears a scoff behind him, and he feels a grin form on his lips as Young K removes his hands from his face, his own eyes opening at the motion.

            “You stop at nothing when you spot an opportunity to insult me, do you,” he says, placing his face right next to Dowoon’s and his chin resting on his shoulder, his hand on the small of his back. 

            “It’s part of my charm, Young K-ssi,” Dowoon teases with a grin, playfully booping his nose. “You knew it from the beginning.”

            Young K scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face and a pinkness to his cheeks. A crinkle in his eyes behind those familiar pair of eyeglasses. Stars shining, even in the day.

            He leans in a presses his lips onto Dowoon’s, making him close his eyes to greet the night sky. He smiles into the kiss, loving the giddiness of it, and loving no longer being in denial, now that he’s not hesitating anymore.

            Young K pulls away, and Dowoon opens his eyes to see the same view from before, twinkling before him, looking as beautiful as the first time he met him.

            “Ready for our first date?” he asks, loosely wrapping his arms around his torso.

            “Well...” Dowoon says, feeling a blush come over him, “ _technically_ , this is our second.”

            “Second?”

            “Third, if you count that time in the park.”

            He watches as a slow smile grows on Young K’s face, finally getting it. He receives that smile through a soft kiss on the forehead, eyes falling down to a close on instinct. 

            “Third date, then.” And Young K offers his hand with a smile. “Ready to go?”

            Dowoon smiles and places a peck on his cheek.

            “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

The moment Dowoon pulled away from the hug after confessing to Young K in the hospital hallway, he had found himself looking straight at about the widest grin in mankind, painted orange and pink and yellow like everything he feels for  him. It was the most beautiful smile that Young K had ever given him, like the happiness he was feeling was oozing out of him uncontrollable and uncontainable—like a dam suddenly struck, the water now bursting with no limitations. Looking at that made an unbearable feeling clench Dowoon’s heart and condense it like it was hiding in itself, constricted by the giddiness of realizing that they liked each other. That _Holy_ shit _we like each other_. And it made Dowoon open his mouth without even thinking of it—to say something, to ask something, to request something if Young K would concede to it. Had been wishing for it since the day after he met him, wondering if now he would finally be able to have it.

            Unfortunately, before he could even get the words out, a new, unfamiliar voice suddenly spoke up in the most deadpan way possible:

            “Are you done.”

            The both of them turned—still with loose hands on each other’s bodies—to see a janitress with tied-up hair in full-on light-blue janitress outfit, a mop held in one hand and a yellow mop bucket standing at her side, like a lady-in-waiting. She looked just as deadpan as her voice had been.

            “I need to clean that area of the hallway,” she informed them when neither of them said anything, gesturing with her mop. Her tag read _Bae Joohyun_. “I’d leave it, but poor work ethic doesn’t exactly pay the bills, you know.”

            “What is it with the women of this hospital and sassing people?” Young K asked no one in particular.

            “We like to make our men suffer in ways they can’t comprehend—like most things in this world.” The janitress shrugged like it was no biggie. “Now, _move_. Before I clean the both of you instead.”

 

Young K and Dowoon found themselves standing in the middle of the parking lot, almost as if a bundle of tumbleweed bouncing by would be appropriate for the situation. Or even a bird flying above, going _“Aho! Aho!”_ Either way, Dowoon was restless. Either way, Young K was already speaking.

            “Well, that was an experience,” he commented, off-handedly. “Never thought I’d be able to go through such mood changes in a hospital before—I think there were like four, including that thing with Dr Kim—but nevertheless, it was kinda fun going through all that, considering I’ve never had things like that happen all at onc—”

            “Be my boyfriend,” Dowoon blurted out, feeling his hands shaking.

            “—ell, there was this one time Wonpil conspired with Nayeon-ssi to murder m—wait, what?” Young K turned to him abruptly, as if just now registering what he said.

            Dowoon fiddled with his fingers, feeling himself fidgeting a little.

            “Would you like to be my boyfriend?” he asked, maybe a little bit out of breath. “I mean I know we just confessed to each other and that usually means we’re automatically dating but I didn’t know if you wanted to make it official so soon or if this even counts as so soon to you I mean I personally have no problem with it but you might have a problem with it and you know it’s valid if you have a problem with it we’re all entitled to our own opinions you know freedom of speech and all that (I don’t know if that’s right) anyway what was I saying oh yeah boyfriends yes boyfriends I was asking if you wanna be boyfriends you know since we just confessed to each other which makes us automatically dating unless you don’t want to be automatically dating but since we like each other holy _shit_ we _like_ each other—”

            His panicked tirade was abruptly interrupted by two hands on his shoulders.

            “Breathe,” Young K said with an assuring look. “It’s just me.”

            And Dowoon took a deep breath. A deep, _deeep_ one. To the point it was kinda visible. But Young K didn’t comment on it. And Dowoon was grateful, grateful, grateful.

            “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” he asked, all the nerves finally spilling out through his words.

            But Young K received them as if they were the most precious words in the world, a soft smile spreading across his face.

            “I wouldn’t say no for the world.”

            And from then on, it had transitioned smoothly from _No-we’re-just-friends-there’s-no-way-we’d-end-up-together-what-are-you-cacklin’-about_ to _Holy-SHIT-we’re-together-what-ever-the-mind-blowing-FUCK_.

            It was kind of surreal: to be dating Young K. To _know_ and _realize_ and _embed_ deep, _deeep_ in his heart, mind, and soul that he was _dating_ Young K. And that they had _feelings_ for each other. And that those feelings had been _reciprocated_ this entire time. It was one of the most bizarre feelings to have and to experience, especially when before all of this used to be just a fantasy for him, a daydream. Something he never imagined to be real.

            But it was real. And the week that followed proved to him just how real it was.

            Though Dowoon still sassed Young K’s texts, he was now the one sending the first text every day. Though they still maintained professionalism at work, there were many, many instances where Dowoon felt Young K slip his pinky into his, behind their backs so no one would see. And though they were never sensitive of personal space, somehow Dowoon felt they started to stand a lot nearer to each other, a lot closer. With Young K looking over Dowoon’s shoulder to check on the photos that day and him feeling his breath send tingles down his spine. With Dowoon placing a hand on his arm to get his attention for something and not taking it off for a while. With the way they stared and glanced at each for longer than they deemed necessary, though to an outsider he was sure nothing seemed wrong. With a hand immediately slipping into his the moment they went outside after work was over, since they started walking home together.

            Dowoon knew that not much between them had actually changed (though the length of that paragraph seems to argue otherwise)—that it was still the same him, the same Young K, and the same them, together. Talking, laughing. Sassing each other and teasing. If one to look at it in surface-value, it wasn’t really that different at all.

            But he guesses the reason why that is is because they had always been like this since the beginning: in the beginning, there was already a spark between them that was meant to catch fire. It’s only that one of them immediately tried to put it out, while the other let it grow while keeping safe watch. One tried to prevent disaster through ultimatum, while one observed and made careful decisions. The both of them always had feelings for each other since the beginning (for Dowoon, at least; he wasn’t sure of the exact date Young K started liking him), but they had limited themselves from fully pursuing it, both of them hesitating and restricting themselves in their own way. 

            But that’s why it’s so different now—or at the very least, _seems_ like it’s different. Because since the very beginning the both of them wanted this, and _yearned_ for this, but it’s only now that they can actually _have_ it. That they’d always acted according to their desires, but can now desire them in the open. And neither of them are going to limit themselves now—not now, when they finally have exactly as they wanted.

            It’s why Dowoon is currently sitting in the middle of the place Young K chose for their first (third) date, two days after he asked him if he wanted to go somewhere and Dowoon legit squished his wittle cheeks and said, “If you thought I was gonna say no, then think again, bitch— _fuck_ yeah, I wanna go on a date with you.” It’s why he’s also feeling kind of nervous, but at the same time extremely curious. Because now that they’re dating, he can finally discover so many things about him that he’d been wanting to know about before. 

            Although—he never expected for one of those things to be this:

            They’re seated behind the floor-to-ceiling window of the dessert shop of Young K’s choice,  located around four blocks away from Dowoon’s apartment and famous for those _cute_ little ice cream things that sell for half-off during June. It’s a quaint little food shop with a pastel palette of white, pink, and green, complete with decorative glitter-y patterns and an obvious unicorn theme going on, if the murals and even the menu theme are any indication. All the walls save for the one behind the counter are made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, and the tables are made of plastic, colored white and shaped round with a single leg and three feet keeping it attached to the tiled floor. The one they’re seated at right now is a small one meant to be shared by one or two people only, as if emphasizing that they’re on a date—though it feels more like they’re parents whose child is currently playing in the children’s playground. They have an actual children’s playground in the corner with slides and everything, what the frick.

            All of it makes Dowoon stare longer than necessary, turning and twisting around in his chair as if _he_ were a kid experiencing this for the first time. In actuality he’s really just trying to bridge the paradoxical and juxtapositional qualities of _this_ and _Young K_ and trying to comprehend it without being that one judgemental guy who gives into stereotypes and first impressions. But _come on, guys_ —Young K and _unicorns_? How did this even happen?

            “You look like you’re trying to solve a really hard math problem,” he suddenly hears, and Dowoon turns to see Young K looking at him with an amused, lopsided smile on his face, one eyebrow furrowed a bit in chuckle. His eyeglasses are sliding slowly a bit off his nose.

            “Well, considering as I failed literally my very first semester of Engineering,” he says, “that is an understatement.”

            He reaches over to fix Young K’s eyeglasses. “I guess I’m just surprised that you of all people chose a place like this,” he says, pulling away from his position and not noticing the slight blush that spread onto Young K’s face. “I mean, you _are_ twenty-six after all. And a sexy man at that.”

            (“Sexy man/woman/human” was Kevin’s euphemism for “pornstar”. He used it once to address the entire company body (“Hello, sexy humans! It’s time t—”) and frankly got multiple things thrown at him, though that was mostly because of their communally shared Cain instinct against all things Kevin. Personally, Dowoon likes to use the term because it makes Young K turn red and bury his face in whatever is available at the moment.)

            “W-well, uh, nothing wrong with a s-sexy man liking things that are cute—” Dowoon glances: this time, he chose to bury his face in his hands. “But actually, it’s not me who’s into all this—it’s Seobi-yah. You know, the little cousin I told you about before.”

            That makes Dowoon turn to him fully, directing his entire attention to him. He was able to make it in time to catch a small, fond smile crawl its way up Young K’s face; a similar one crawls up Dowoon’s as he narrates:

            “We used to go here _all_ the time whenever I visited her. Like, literally— _all_ the time. I don’t think there was ever a day where we hung out and didn’t end up going here. Like she would literally go like, ‘Hyunnie-oppa! Hyunnie-oppa! Let’s go to the pretty princess unicorn palace!’ and wouldn’t stop until I gave in. She was absolutely _convinced_ that this place was where princesses held their secret meetings, and she would sometimes point to the other kids and make up stories on what kind of kingdom they were from. It was usually based on what they were wearing, like the Stripes Kingdom, or the Blue Squares Kingdom, stuff like that. It was honestly so cute and so embarrassing at the same time because we kept getting these looks, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. Also she had this conspiracy theory going on that the manager over there with the pink hat is, like, the Queen. Also, she _really_ liked that unicorn.”

            Young K points to the wall behind Dowoon, and he turns to see a mural of a unicorn with pink, purple, and green hair, its eyelashes closed in majestic beauty and the fact that queens have no use for looking at lowly peasants like them; yellow stars swirl around the ethereal creature and further emphasize its transcendent nature.

            “Mood,” Dowoon adheres with a convinced nod and shrug, and turns back to Young K.

            “I chose this place for our date because it holds a special meaning to me,” Young K says, scratching his neck and looking sheepish; his eyes are glancing away from Dowoon, a bit embarrassed. “And I wanted our first (third) date to have meaning. Plus, you said you had a sweet tooth and this was the first thing that popped up in my mind...”

            Dowoon feels a wide grin slowly spread across his face as he watches Young K fiddle with his fingers, showing him a new side to him that he never knew could be possible. It was one of those few “changes” that Dowoon talked about earlier—though now that he can look back on it, he’s able to recall the different times Young K had been flustered about him before. Now that he’s able to see it without that Negative Nancy filter.

            “Well,” Dowoon starts, glancing down in thought, “I gotta admit the place _is_ a bit childish and Kindergarten-y for my taste—” And Young K glances up at that, hesitant— “but I don’t mind it. If you like it so much, then I like it, too.”

            He smiles at Young K, eyes and all.

            “You did a great job choosing this place for our first date.”

            And he watches as the reddest color suddenly seeps into Young K’s cheeks, starting from his cheeks before spreading out to his ears and neck. He watches his eyes widen at Dowoon’s statement, watches him stare in awe at him, watches him as he splutters incomprehensibly, finding it difficult to find the right words to say.

            “U-uh, I-I mean—i-it's not as i-if it was th- _that_ good of a ch-choice—I-I mean, y-y-you're right! I-i-it _is_ kind of childish, th-though if you like it, then that's fine with me—b-besides, the d-desserts are good; I bet you'd like them, you know, o-of your sweet tooth—um— _UM???—_ o-o-o-oh, what was that? Do I hear them calling our names? I should go check, just in case."

            And Young K fucking nyooms away from their table, leaving in a red, burning haste towards the counter. Even though no one called their names. This dessert shop doesn’t even _call_ names.

            Dowoon hides held-back laughter behind his hand as he watches Young K awkwardly stand there at the counter with his face buried in his hands. The cashier actually gives him a pitying pat on the shoulder and lets him stay there for a few moments, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment for maybe a good ten minutes or so. Dowoon turns away with a smile on his lips, feeling a giddiness in his heart that has not stopped since the start of this date.

            It's really amazing to see Young K act so flustered like this. When Dowoon first met him, he expected him to always be that arrogant, confident, non-clumsy guy who would never stumble for any reason whatsoever. He was always so flirty, and smirky, and so annoyingly so, and with every photo Dowoon took of him in his I-need-to-fan-myself-for-a-moment state, he found less and less reason to expect nothing less from him, especially with how weak Dowoon often finds himself with just a look from him alone.

            But ever since Dowoon started dating him, he's been noticing all the little clumsy mishaps that Young K tends to make when around him, or just chatting with him. Tripping onto the bed in the set they're about to shoot in, hastily sending consecutive messages in capitalized typos after sending a really unfortunate one ("PRINGLES I MEANT PRINGLES" "i bet you were really looking forward to eating all those prisoners"), and blushing so hard when Dowoon says anything even remotely flirty to him, which to Dowoon was already embarrassing in itself. But Young K likes to act as if _he_ was the one saying it, getting overly flustered over nothing.

            "Hey, Sana-ssi brought over some macarons—do you want to get some to eat?" Young K asked a few days ago, pointing a thumb behind him where a significant amount of staff members were piling up like the zombies from Kingdom.

            "Oh, you _know_ what I'd love to have a bite to taste, right now," Dowoon said, licking his lips.

            He actually _was_ referring to the macarons in that instant, but Young K ended up tripping over air and almost had to go back to Dr Kim at the statement, causing a ruckus that had Kevin and Wonpil screaming for two strikingly different reasons. Dowoon had to explain to him that he just _really_ liked macarons that much, which is why he now knows that he has a sweet tooth.

            Seeing this new side of Young K has really given Dowoon a new perspective of him, the urge to know more growing stronger and stronger. It was really his curiosity of knowing who Young K really was outside all that porn biz that even made Dowoon approach him again. And with every new piece of information that Dowoon learns come the desire to prod him even further, wanting to know more about him than anyone else in the world. 

            A tray is suddenly placed in front of him, and Dowoon startles, snapping out of his thoughts. A deadpan Young K takes the seat in front of him, cheeks still a blushy red.

            "Would it be too much to ask you to not speak of this to anyone," he says.

            Dowoon smirks at him. "Maybe if you ask nicely."

            “I did ask nicely.”

            “That was supposed to be rhetorical.”

            He turns his attention to the array of desserts sitting in front of him and finds his mouth almost watering, the scene being the second-most beautiful thing he has ever witnessed in his entire life. Cupcakes, brownies, cookies, creampuffs, macarons, maca _roons_ —he almost doesn't want to touch any of them, lest he ruin their magic.

            "Come on, don't be shy," Young K prods, poking Dowoon’s arm. "I bought all of these for you; wouldn't wanna waste all that money, do you?"

            Dowoon grabs the tiny fork with an excited grin.

            "Well, don't mind, if I do."

            Dowoon is sent to a place even sweeter than heaven the moment his lips come in contact with the absolute delectableness that is dessert. The richness of the chocolate, the fluffiness of the whipped cream, the tanginess of the lemon meringue, the earthiness of the green tea, the bittersweetness of the coffee, the milkiness of the coconut—all of it has Dowoon falling head over heels in how wonderful it all is, a harmonious mixture of flavors creating a miracle in his mouth. Dowoon should honestly bring Jaehyung here some time; he bets he’d _love_ to be able to give a review of this place.

            "That tasty, huh?" Young K says with a laugh as Dowoon reaches for a marshmallow cupcake.

            "Tasty doesn't even cover it." Dowoon takes another bite and absolutely melts on the inside. Then, he notices that Young K hasn't eaten anything yet. 

            "Hey, you should try some of this—it's really good," he says, putting his cupcake down. "You're the one paying for everything; you should at least have a grab to bite."

            Young K just smiles at him, looking at him as if there isn't anything else he wants to look at. 

            No—not as if. 

            "It's okay," he says. "I'm getting full just looking at you."

            Dowoon feels his entire face burning at that, knowing his ears to be redder than the rest of his body. Feels Young K's words pull at his heartstrings, squeezing his chest so tight he feels like he can't breathe. 

            But in spite of it, he likes the feeling. In spite of it, he likes feeling like this. He likes it because _he’s_ making him feel like this, as sappy and tooth-rottingly fluffy as that sounds.

            "... Cheesy," Dowoon mumbles, glancing down at his food and absentmindedly poking at it. He feels the corners of his lips betray him though, though he tries hard to push them down.

            "Don't you mean 'sweet'?" he hears Young K say and glances up to see him tilting his head to get a good look at him, smiling at him playfully.

            “That's even cheesier," Dowoon says, rolling his eyes through his blush. He just angrily cuts a slice of that cupcake and stabs his fork into it, bringing it up to Young K's level.

            "Aish, just eat— _eat_ , you annoying piece of boyfriend material," Dowoon grumbles, furrowing his eyebrows bitterly with the burn in his cheeks.

            And Young K smiles at him, the kind of smile that Dowoon loves to see. The kind of smile that puts "too" after "I like you".

            "Don't mind if I do," he says and receives the food happily, making Dowoon crumple like cookie crumble on the inside.

            The minutes that pass by after that go a lot smoother, with less instances of the both of them getting so stupidly flustered over each other that they can't hold a conversation. Dowoon finds himself laughing all over again like back in the galbi house over the stories that Young K tells him, the ones he wasn't able to say last time.

            He found out that he used to be the bassist in his school band and knew how to play the violin and the saxophone, too. He found out that he'd gone to Toronto as an exchange student for two years, which is why he’s so good at speaking English. He found out that those white Converse he always wears was a gift from a close friend of his and that he always wears it because it's the most comfortable pair of shoes he has.

            He found out that he tripped on-stage once when he was performing at his school. He found out that he watched Shrek everyday so he could learn how to speak the language (the English language, not the Shrek language). He found out that he tripped on his shoes _three_ times the first hour he wore them. And he found out that that restaurant they went to before was where he got Kevin’s offer to join the porn company, on the notion that, “He said I looked hot and would do great in a porno, so he went and asked if I could be in a porno.” “Well, he'd be right on that first bit.” “What was that?” “Nothing.”

            He finds out so much about Young K this time that it almost feels like there might not be anything left. But then again, humans are complex creatures.

            "No _way_! In an _alley_?" Dowoon almost exclaims making Young K shush him over the people who suddenly turn to them, curious.

            "She was really hot, okay—and she was into it!" Young K says in a hushed tone, shoulders bent into himself. "But yeah, thank god neither of us had any infections because that place was _not_ sanitized at _all_."

            Dowoon crumples his face in a combination of disgust and amusement. "Eugh, I don’t even want to imagine it. Thank god the only place _I've_ ever had sex in was a clean, fluffy bed."

            "Wait—you’re not a virgin?" Young K asks, looking mildly surprised.

            Dowoon puts both hands up, mildly offended. "Why does everyone assume I'm a virgin? Do I look _that_ inexperienced?"

            Young K looks up, face scrunched up in thought. "Well—"

            Dowoon kicks him under the table.

            " _Ow_! Okay, okay, I'm sorry, it's just—" Young K shrugs with a “whaddaya want from me” look. "Every time you look at me when we shoot, it's like you've never seen a naked body before. And I'm pretty sure you've mentioned that to me once or twice."

            Dowoon is so glad the both of them are speaking in hushed tones, or else he'll never be able to face the general public ever again.

            "Well, I _have_ —though, yeah, I do admit I _am_ still a bit inexperienced," Dowoon says, poking at one of the macaroons with his fork. "It was in college when I lost my virginity, during second year. It was really weird because I didn't really know how to do it, but she seemed into it, so I thought I was doing a good job. But it turned out I really sucked at it, and she broke up with me the next day because of it."

            Young K winces at that. "Damn, were you okay?"

            "It wasn't really much." Dowoon waves a dismissive hand. "We only went out for a few weeks, and to be honest, I didn't really feel anything deep for her, so neither of us minded breaking up. 

            "To be honest... none of the relationships I've been in were serious. I don't even count them as relationships. Just two people who had a bit of an interest, but never really went past that. Not that I've ever been in a lot of relationships in the first place; I've only somewhat-dated like _three_ people in my entire life. Not including you. And to be honest, dating never really _had_ been my thing, since I never really believed anyone would ever want to  date me. It just didn't seem possible."

            "'Seem'," Young K says, and Dowoon looks up at him. Finds a tiny smile pull up his face.

            "Yeah. 'Seem'," he says, heart swelling up just a tiny bit. "Well, what about you, then?" he prompts. "How is your dating experience?"

            At that, a different smile appears on Young K’s face, and Dowoon realizes it's the same one he pulled when they first met at the park. Right after Dowoon said he wished it never happened.

            "I've had a lot of partners," Young K says. "Men. Women. One identified as non-binary. But they all ended the same way. Right after, uh, I said, 'I love you.'"

            Young K has his eyes trained on the table, that odd, still smile still playing on his face. It looks like he's reliving a thousand different flashbacks, a thousand different memories, playing right in front of his eyes under projector light. Like he's always done so, a thousand thousand times.

            Dowoon places his hand over Young K’s and intertwines their fingers together, sees Young K jerk his head up at him, a little surprised.

            "You know," he starts, "it'll probably be a long time before I tell you I love you. I mean we _have_ only known each other for two months, and two months is just way too soon to finalize things. I don't know when I'll say it, and I don't know if you'll still be there when I decide to, but know that when I do, I'll be meaning it. And I'll be meaning it because I'll be making sure that I mean it. Because when I say I love you, it'll be after making sure I truly do.

            "And if one day you tell me you love me, and I don't tell you I love you, it doesn't mean I never will. It just means I'm still on my way there."

            Dowoon keeps his eyes on Young K, not breaking his gaze for a second.

            "I won't be turning back any time soon."

            Young K stares at him, lips parted. Gaze unwavering. Fingers holding onto him as if he doesn't intend on letting go.

            "You..." he starts, before a slow, slow smile creeps up his face. "Now, who's being cheesy?"

            Dowoon grins at him. "Don't you mean 'sweet'?"

            Young K breaths out a laughter.  

            "Yeah, I do mean 'sweet'.”

            And he leans in to kiss Dowoon on the lips, wrapping them in a smile as his free hand cups his cheek. The other one holds tightly onto Dowoon’s like he has no intention of letting go of it, and Dowoon squeezes it tightly as well, finding no reason to let go either.

            "Hey, could you two be in love a bit _quieter_?"

            The both of them abruptly pull away to turn to the direction of the voice, which came from a group of what looks to be high school teenagers, a boy and a girl hiding in themselves and covering their embarrassed faces behind their hands as a third boy sitting in the middle unashamedly faces Young K and Dowoon, looking unbothered.

            "I have nothing against same-gender relationships—I'm just against blatant PDA among all couples," he states, his companions looking as if they're considering hiding under the table.

            Young K lets out a scoff.

            "I think I'll pass," he says, pulling Dowoon over to hold him closer. "Sorry, kid, but it took a  ton of effort to make this guy admit he likes me, so you bet I'm cherishing every moment of this."

            "I'm sorry— _admit_ that I like you?" Dowoon turns to him with an unbelieving smile on his face, slightly incredulous.

            "Face it, babe—" Young K turns to him with that familiar, arrogant smirk— "you've liked me since the beginning."

            A disbelieving scoff leaves his lips but in spite of it, Dowoon finds another smile coming up his face, a grin preceding laughter, like preceding love.

            He leans in and kisses Young K on the lips, finding no shame in admitting everything he feels for him, at this very moment.

            "Yeah, you're right," he says, after pulling away. His eyes look Young K up and down, a giddy feeling taking rein on the smile on his face. "I have."

 

The two of them walk side-by-side on their way home from the dessert shop, thankfully stopping on the way for some odeng and tteokbokki from that kind old lady on the street so that they wouldn't be having just dessert for lunch. They're both pretty much messes, but they gotta be at least _somewhat_ of a role model for the kids nowadays. (Don’t eat just dessert for meals, kids. Don’t be like them.)

            "Thanks for walking me home, hyung," Dowoon says, their fingers intertwined with one another. "I mean, I can do it myself, since I'm an adult and all, but I appreciate your protectiveness."

            "Please, we're dating now—walking your boyfriend home is a must," Young K says with a roll of the eyes, though he's not unsmiling. "Plus, I've been meaning to know where your apartment is. So I can know which address to send all the flowers, and chocolates, and teddy bears."

            Dowoon laughs at that. "Well, if you _are_ actually planning on doing that, I'd rather you just send me copies of Smashed. (‘Which one was that?’ ‘The one by Junji Ito.’ ‘Ah.’)  Though, keep the chocolates; I love those."

            “Oh, I _bet_." Young K looks to the side as if saying, "Sure, Jan." "Felt a lot like I was on a date with a kid back there, just saying."

            "Hey! Just because I have a sweet tooth doesn't mean I'm a kid!"

             "I'm sorry, what was that? You have to be  tall to go on this ride of 'Can I Hear You'."

            "I am _five_ centimeters taller than you!"

            "It's a good thing the sun's still up, or else little Dowoonnie's gonna be late for his curfew."

            "I am _twenty-four_ —"

            "Aww, is wittle Woonie angwy? Maybe a wittle nappy time woo make him feew bettew—"

            Dowoon pulls  a Wonpil and jumps Young K to bite him on the head, nothing but anger defining him at this very moment.

            "Owowowowow! Okay, Dowoon, I'll stop, please, I'll stop!"

            Dowoon gets off of Young K and glares at him, not caring one bit at how he's caressing the top of his head like he's in deep pain. Feel the pain, Young K. Feel the _fucking_ pain.

            "I'm starting to regret asking you to be my boyfriend," Dowoon says, crossing his arms.

            “Well, I’m not." Young K winces. "I think. You bite really strongly—hope that doesn't translate badly on your skills in bed."

            Dowoon huffs an annoyed breath. "With the way you're going, maybe we never will—oh, we're here."

            They find themselves standing in front of Dowoon’s apartment, right in front of the automatic doors. It’s not as fancy as other apartments, but it’s definitely not bad, at least. There's a few steps up and a cemented porch with space around the building made so that the tenants can sit out and enjoy the view on the benches, though there isn't anyone there right now.

            "Oh, I know this one—this is the apartment I always pass by when going to the bookstore," Young K comments, looking up at the building. "Funny that you and I have never passed by each other—then again, you're always at home, anyway. Coincidence that we met at the bookstore by accident back then, huh?"

            "Yeah, ha, ha," Dowoon nervously says. "Yew'd be right on that idea, son."

            Young K looks at him. Dowoon looks away. Young K adjusts so he's looking at Dowoon again. Dowoon covers his eyes.

            "Holy fu—did you _know_ I was in the bookstore when you went there?" Young K exclaims, realization dawning on him.

            "I-I'm n-not saying I _didn’t._.." Dowoon says, putting his hands down and still not looking at Young K.

            "And you went there, _knowing_ I was there. And you pretended to act as if it was all a coincide—Dowoon, did you _pretend_ to be there by accident so we could hang _out_?"

            "W-well, th-that's certainly not an _impossible_ occurrence—"

            "And you did that," Young K continues with a growing smile on his face, "because you were too embarrassed to ask me out yourself, and you made up that fake story of being friends with Seungminnie, just so you could be with me."

            Dowoon glances up at Young K then, watching as the clumsiest smile crawls up his face, and he is reminded of the time Dowoon told Young K yes when he asked him to eat with him at that restaurant.

            Dowoon slumps, giving up.

            " _Yes_ , I did all that," he says.

            "Holy _shit_!"

            Young K lets out exhilarated laughter, looking happier than Dowoon’s ever seen him. His shoulders are hunched up, his eyes are making crescents, and his mouth is wide in laughter, teeth baring. 

            "God, I _knew_ something was up when you started speaking in that Bullshit Dialect," he says, still grinning widely. " _No one_ fucking speaks like that—especially no one from _Busan_!"

            Dowoon doesn't know whether to feel offended because he just insulted him, or impressed that this man is culturally educated enough to know the phonology of a Busan man.

            "God, you are the most tsundere person I have ever met—holy _shit_ ," Young K is still saying. "You don't _like_ me, Dowoon—you're fucking _whipped_ for me! You're fucking _whipped_!"

            Dowoon keeps his eyes rolling as Young K rejoices in his victory(?), actually looking like he's about to cry. And Dowoon is about to say something sarcastic about it, feeling annoyed at the way he's acting,

            But then he remembers how hurt Young K looked when he told Dowoon how frustrated he was not knowing if Dowoon liked him back or not. He thinks about how awful it must've been for him to have to guess and second-guess all the time, how many times Dowoon must've lifted his spirits just to put it down all over again, how much Dowoon made him hope just to remind him that it could've been false. Or maybe not. Or maybe it was.

            In that case, then seeing Young K this happy over Dowoon doing something so embarrassing just because of how he feels for him makes sense. Seeing Young K so happy, so relieved over knowing that Dowoon liked him that much to do that is logical.

            And seeing that smile on his face makes Dowoon really happy, too, even if it _is_ at his expense.

            "Yes, yes, I'm whipped for you, you big, energetic baby," he relents, reaching over to wrap his arms around his torso, pulling him closer. "Cherish this moment because I am never saying that ever again."

            "Not even if I ask you to?" Young K says, now calmer, receiving the hug with a face completely satisfied with all that he's seeing.

            "No. Well. Maybe," Dowoon settles, smiling up at him. "If you ask nicely."

            Young K just continues smiling at that and leans in to kiss Dowoon on the forehead, on the nose, on the corner of his eye, his cheek. Leans in so he can mumble the words against his lips.

            "I like you, Yoon Dowoon," he whispers, the moment so vulnerable, between them.

            "I like you, too, Young K," Dowoon says back, feeling a small smile stretch his face.

            At that, a breath of laughter leaves Young K's lips and he pulls away just a bit.

            He glances away, biting his lip, and Dowoon wonders what he's doing, what exactly is going on in that pretty little head of his.

            Then he glances back and says,

            "Call me Younghyun."

            Dowoon blinks at him, a bit taken aback.

            "Younghyun?" he echoes.

            The man slowly grins at him, cheeks dusted pink, brown eyes glowing in the sunlight, so perfect and so pretty.

            "It's my real name," he says. "Younghyun. Kang Younghyun."

            _Kang Younghyun… Young K…_ Ah, he gets it.

            "Kang Younghyun..." he repeats, voice faltering just a bit, looking down in thought. "Younghyun..."

            He looks up at him, and finds a grin spreading across his face.

            "I like it," he says, and watches the way Younghyun smiles at him back. "And I like you, Kang Younghyun."

            Younghyun leans in again, just close enough to mumble his words against his lips, smiling in their almost-kiss, happy with their almost-love.

            "I like you, too, Yoon Dowoon," he says, and leans in to close it, close his eyes, close them like a curtain for the most precious play, painted and pictured the most perfect way.

            When Dowoon hears a familiar set of squeaky sneakers come from behind him.

            "Man, I can't believe Dowoon finally admitted to having a boyfriend," the familiar person says. "I swear, that guy better bring Dowoon home by curfew, or else I'm gonna throw some hands—"

            Dowoon immediately pulls away from the kiss and pushes a surprised Younghyun to the other side of the building, one away from that person’s path. He ends up caging Younghyun to the corner and pressing their bodies together; Dowoon would enjoy this fervently, if he wasn't fucking panicking.

            "Woah, forward much. I guess you _do_ know how to dominate a man—"

            “I said, _shush_!"

            "Technically, you didn't _actually_ say, 'shush'—"

            "I said, _SHUSH_!"

            Dowoon covers Younghyun's mouth with a hand and looks over to the side, hearing the automatic doors open and close. He spots Jaehyung skippily jump down the steps before tripping on the last one and planting his face on the ground.

            He immediately gets up after and turns around to see if anyone saw. Thinking no one did, he dusts himself off and proceeds on his way, eventually leaving Dowoon's view.

            Dowoon lets go of Younghyun and pulls away, letting out a sigh of relief. He puts a hand on his forehead, needing some space to breath.

            "Hey, I know that guy," Younghyun says, eyes staring in the direction of Jaehyung's path. He must've seen the way Dowoon stared at him when he pinned him to the wall. “He’s the guy who sometimes visits the company.”

            Dowoon whips his head at Younghyun at that, feeling a thousand exclamation points blare in his head.

            "You _know_ him?" he asks. "He sometimes visits the _company_?"

            "Yeah, he's Jamie-ssi's friend." Younghyun nods. "He usually just goes there when he's bored, or if he hears Sana-ssi brought food. Why? Is he your ex, or something?"

            "No—worse," Dowoon sighs, putting a hand on his forehead again. "He's my brother-in-law."

            Dowoon doesn't need to see Younghyun's mouth open in shock and his eyes widen at that to know it happened.

            "You're _brother-in-law_?" he echoes, exclaiming. "Like, your _really protective_ brother-in-law? Like, made-you-pretend-you-were-sexting-with-me brother-in-law? _That_ brother-in-law?"

            "I cannot believe that that is how you refer to him, but yes," Dowoon says with a grave nod, "that brother-in-law."

            "Holy shit. And you're hiding from him because...?"

            "Because..." And Dowoon hesitates with this— "I was _kind_ of planning on keeping your identity a secret from him."

            "Because...?" Younghyun prods him further. 

            "Because..." He grits his teeth sheepishly. "If he finds out you're a pornstar... he _miiight_ ask me to break up with you."

            He finds Younghyun blinking at him in shock at that, not saying anything for a few seconds. And Dowoon winces at it, half-expecting a burst of anger, or disbelief.

            But instead, he finds a breath of laughter leave Younghyun's lips and an amused smile perking the corners of his lips, finds Younghyun pulling him closer to him, making Dowoon press his chest against Younghyun's, the man's back pressed against the wall.

            "God, it isn't gonna be easy being with you, is it," Younghyun chuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind Dowoon's ear.  "But that's okay.”

            He smiles at him.

            “Because liking you is.”

            And Younghyun leans in to capture Dowoon’s lips in his own once more, fingers brushing against his cheek. And Dowoon is so surprised he almost doesn't kiss him back, eyes open in shock.

            But eventually he melts into the kiss, bringing his hands up to wrap around Younghyun's neck, and loving the smile that comes right with it. 

            Yeah, it won't be easy being with him. But he said it before, didn't he? Dowoon was difficult from the start. But the good thing about reaching for difficult things is the sweet, sweet reward of achieving it. It’s why he has a penchant for sweet things, why he’s got a sweet tooth.

            And Younghyun is the sweetest treat in the whole world.

            “NyaaAHHH, I FORGOT MY NOTEBOOK!"

            ... And Jaehyung is a bitter gourd.

            Dowoon pulls Younghyun down to a painful crouch immediately, pulling away from the kiss to check wherever the hell Jaehyung is. He spots him running clumsily back into the apartment and slipping behind the automatic doors—thankfully, without spotting either of them.

            Both Dowoon and Younghyun let out sighs of relief, slumping their shoulders from where they sit on the floor. Thank god this part of the building is well-maintained by the staff, or Dowoon is gonna have to move laundry day to today.

            "Your brother is the biggest cock block of the century," Younghyun says, sighing.

            "That is only one of the reasons to wish him out of my life," Dowoon sighs as well.

            They turn to each other, staring for a few seconds.

            "We should probably kiss again before he comes back down with his notebook," Younghyun says quickly.

            "If it's the green one with a dinosaur on the front, he'll be up there for twenty minutes," Dowoon says. "I hid it behind my bedside drawer when he borrowed my phone again without permission."

            "You are devious... and that's fucking hot."

            "Kiss me, then, lover boy—I can get hotter."

            And they kiss for the next twenty minutes, just long enough before Jaehyung could catch them committing the offense of public indecency. But Dowoon doesn't mind it. He's been doing all sorts of crazy things since Younghyun came into his life. And no matter what difficulty comes before him, he's going to keep on facing it. 

            Because if it isn’t white hair, a grinny kiss, and the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, then it isn’t anything at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha guess what: this gay mess is back, and we're in a new arc biches B)
> 
> NOTES  
> \- me, reading this and knowing full well that this is a day6 fanfiction and that young k's real name is kang younghyun: oh my god his real name is kang younghyun  
> \- also let it be known that i wrote this entire chapter in my phone memos and edited it via calmlywriter. the things i do for this ship  
> \- also i dont remember the details but after editing this im pretty sure i wrote this chapter with Gourmet Hound in mind and after recently watching Kingdom  
> \- Also i most definitely referenced the persona 4 hiimdaisy comic dub (if you love persona 4/the persona series in general/just want a barrel of laughs, go watch it, it’s amazing; it’s a product of its time tho, in some areas)  
> \- Songs in my head during this chapter:  
> \-----Reena’s song from Shining Star  
> \-----Girls like us by twice  
> \-----Araw-araw by ben&ben  
> \-----Tomorrow tonight by loote  
> \-----Tala by sarah geronimo  
> \-----Oo by up dharma down  
> \-----Song request by lee sora
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated ^^
> 
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	10. The Dilemma of the Dick or the Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW: AAAH RIGHT I FORGOT TO TAG THE NSFW UM, youngk is naked, dowoon does the photoshoot thing, there is masturbation (i think???), and heated kissing and stuff dshkdajdhak, and boners, yes, boners

Dowoon stares deadpanned as he peeks his head out of the door, just discreetly enough to not get noticed, but out enough to see everything in plain sight.

            “—And you’re _sure_ you’ve never gotten a boner _once_?” Jaehyung is asking, looking unconvinced but at the same time extremely impressed.

            “Completely sure,” Kevin answers, arms crossed and with a proud look on his face and an arrogant brow. “I mean, there was this one time with Young K-ssi when he did that prisoner photoshoot and it went _really_ close, but I was able to keep it down.”

            “There wouldn’t be anything to _keep_ down if you were fully straight, Kevin,” Jamie says with a clipboard in one hand, passing by without even batting an eye. “And frankly, I think that’s just an indication.”

            Dowoon feels his left eye twitch in absolute _What the ever-loving fuck_ as Kevin goes through an existential crisis as fucking _Park Jaehyung_ comforts him by the _fucking_ laptops, in their _fucking_ studio, where they film _fucking_ pornographic videos of _fucking_ people and _FUCKING_ people, and frankly wants to scream at the entire _fucking_ world at this fucker of a development because _WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK._

But he manages to keep it down to a hiss-whisper.

            “What the _fuck_ is he even doing here?” Dowoon whispers out loud as Kevin questions his sexuality out loud (“Is it the dick or the guy—JAE, IS IT THE DICK OR THE GUY?”). “And why the _fuck_ is he talking about boners with Manager-nim?”

            Dowoon feels someone come up behind him.

            “Actually, it’s not that surprising,” Younghyun says, breath tickling his neck. “Jae-ssi’s always been kind of curious about this whole porn company deal, though he has made it very clear that he has absolutely no intention of taking part in it, so he’s always questions about anything and everything. And since he visits Jamie-ssi and Kevin-ssi a lot, everyone’s pretty much used to him. But, yeah—wish he chose a different time to visit.”

            Dowoon lets out a sigh. “Tell me about it.”

            Around two weeks after their first (third) date, Jaehyung told Dowoon that he was going to be going out a bit more, to spend some quality time with his friends to catch up and stuff. He had already finished one of his big project works for the media company he worked for, and had enough time to just chill and hang out for whatever way he deemed fit. Dowoon hadn’t really cared for it (he literally went, “Whatever you want, hyung. ‘S long as you stay _far_ away from me,” without even batting an eye), and just assumed things would just stay the same, just with less Jaehyung. He even low-key rejoiced about it, anticipating the greatness that could only come after the absence of the bane of his existence.

            But unfortunately, it would seem that he had rejoiced too soon, because when Dowoon thought he was just going to be hanging out at a cafe or maybe the movies, Jaehyung had actually meant catching up with his friends at a porn company. _His_ porn company. That is, the porn company he’s currently working at.

            For three whole days, Jaehyung has been present literally during _all_ of Dowoon’s working hours, only leaving a sliver of maybe thirty to forty minutes near the end of his day just to give Dowoon enough time to sneak out after Jaehyung left, making sure he had no reason to be suspicious of anything. It was absolutely _nerve-wracking_ having his brother-in-law unintentionally keep watch over all he was doing, when him doing it consciously was already bad enough. You know, it was only _recently_ that he was even able to _get_ him to stop borrowing his phone and accidentally reading his texts? And that had only been because he asked Younghyun to give him his birthday to become the password for his phone.

            (“why dont you just use something ELSE  as a password? like your favorite food or a code describing how much you love me”

            (“nah hyung knows me like the back of my hand and besides that last one might be too long to memorize”

            (“holy fucking shit”)

            This whole thing just ends up adding a fuckload of problems to Dowoon’s already detrimental situation. Not only does he have to keep the fact that he’s still working illegally under an illegal porn company a secret, but he also has to keep secret the fact that he’s dating one of the _pornstars_ —and one of the more widely-known ones at that. One look at Younghyun and Jaehyung would immediately recognize him and pull him out of Dowoon’s grasp immediately. And judging from the conversation Jaehyung just had with Kevin (minus the boner parts), he must know a _lot_ about the porn company, all its intricacies, its people. It would only be a matter of time before Dowoon is exposed—and sooner, if he hadn’t told Kevin about his situation on Jaehyung’s first day of Dowoon Torment. You know, that guy is honestly so pure—he’s kind of sorry that most people treat him as the comic relief of the fic; he is so much more than that.

            “Is there no way to, like, kick him out, or something?” Dowoon asks no one in particular, maybe hoping for divine intervention. “He’s technically freeloading. And he’s consuming content without paying for it.”

            “The privilege of connection.” Dowoon can see Younghyun shrugging in an “oh, well” way. “It’s what you get when you’re best friends with Jamie-ssi and Kevin-ssi. I heard they got a really tight bond—Jamie-ssi and Jae-ssi most especially, since I heard they were friends since high school. Kevin-ssi’s just really friendly and possibly about the purest human being in the universe. Hey, why do we treat him with such contempt?” he adds as an afterthought.

            “I don’t know, either, Younghyun. I just don’t know.”

            He feels a pat on his shoulder as he spots Wonpil skipping his way over to Kevin’s direction, looking even more devious than usual. “Come on,” Younghyun prompts, “let’s head back inside. He might see you.”

            Dowoon reluctantly gives in to the order with a sigh and pulls his head back behind the door, closing it with a soft thud as a distant, “Hey, there!” sounds in the distance.

            The place the two of them are currently in is Set A, designed to be a bedroom (There isn’t really much need for variety; people love what people love, and if Younghyun’s fans love him getting fucked on a bed, then so fucking be it) but with a twist (Oh. Okay. Never mind): Instead of being designed as a normal, domestic bedroom like most filler shoots, this one is designed as if whoever owns the bedroom is _waiting_ for someone to come over to them, _waiting_ for a night of sweet release. With drapes of red, black velvet and silk, and a lighting meant to entice the hidden feelings of the human body, it feels as if you’re being invited to go on bed with them, on bed with Young K. Who makes the strong weak, and the innocent not innocent any longer. 

            … That was how Kevin worded it, anyway, with dramatic gestures and all. The basic concept of this photoshoot is Person Is Horny, Person Meets With Young K Who Is Also Horny, Person Has Sex With Young K, and Young K Is Shown To Have Fallen For Them As They Leave.

            Pretty sad. Hot, but sad. Either way, Dowoon tries his best to direct his attention to it instead of the giant cock block outside the set.

            “Ugh, let’s just get this over with,” he says with a sigh, adjusting the camera hanging around his neck. “You’re like an escort, right? So, we gotta emulate that…”

            He continues to fiddle with his camera settings for a few more seconds, feeling an irritated brow form on his face when fucking _nothing_ is going right for some _fucking_ reason, when he feels his chin suddenly getting lifted up and is met with an expression the combination of amused and sympathetic.

            “Stressed?” Younghyun guesses, dead-right.

            _Was I that obvious?_ “How can I _not_ be? With the world’s biggest cock block just three meters away from where we’re standing?”

            “But he’s not here now, is he?” And Younghyun passes a thumb over his cheek. “So you can relax. Can’t have our best photographer getting stressed for a photoshoot, now, hm?”

            Younghyun winks at him at that, and Dowoon finds a sudden scoff leaving him, his initial bitter bitchy attitude getting replaced by a giddily constricting feeling in his chest. Ugh, why is being in a relationship with someone so _sappy_? 

            “Ugh, fine, fine,” he says, lightly pushing Younghyun and the disgusting feeling of love away from him and towards the bed. “But you better be at your hottest.”

            “Please. That’s me _all_ the time.”

            The photoshoot starts as Dowoon looks through the lens and finds Younghyun kneeling on the bed with his back to him, looking back with his fingers fiddling with the strap of his bathrobe. Visibly untying it. Making it fall just over the shoulders, teasing. Revealing golden skin and a view that has Dowoon struggling to not bite his lip. But we all know how he’s feeling. And the smirk on Younghyun’s face tells him he knows too.

            He turns around with the bathrobe half-open over him, a blanket covering _nothing_ , and starts crawling towards him, crawling towards the camera. With a look that tells of _want_ , of expectation and the desire to fulfill it. Of breaths that make the room foggy. Of a hand trailing down, down, down. Of sliding his fingers down there, right there, right _there_. Of leaning forward and pressing his face down to the bedsheet and looking at the camera as he does himself so _good_ , touching himself with a view of nothing but his face—and the furrow of his eyebrows telling everyone how good it feels.

            Low moans leave his lips as he keeps them parted, breathing, breathing, breathing. Low moans keep Dowoon’s lips parted, trying hard not to. Low moans, and low whimpers, and low breaths send a shiver down Dowoon’s spine as he tries his best to focus on the picture, tries his best to hold back on what the picture is doing to him, doing to the both of them.

            Eventually, Younghyun lifts himself up and redacts his hand, crawling towards the camera in almost a daze. His cheeks are stained pink, his eyes are half-lidded, and he gets closer with every movement, closer to Dowoon who doesn’t dare move an inch. Not even when Younghyun reaches forward and covers the lens of the camera. Not even when Younghyun reaches forward and pulls the camera down, staring straight at the person behind it.

            “What are you doing…?” Dowoon whispers, staring right back at the man who looks like he wants nothing more.

            “You know exactly what I’m doing,” he whispers, pushing the camera away, setting it aside. In favor of a hand on Dowoon’s cheek. Of a bathrobe slipping down. In favor of getting closer to his lips.

            His eyes falter down to them just as he says, “We’re at work. Isn’t that…?”

            “They have no policies against it,” Younghyun replies, passing a thumb over Dowoon’s lips and making him hitch a breath. His hand slides over Dowoon’s back, and the latter feels his breath leave him. “Sungjin-ssi and Wonpil do it all the time. There’s nothing wrong with it. As long as you and I want it. What do you want, Dowoon-ah?”

            Dowoon swallows at the name, letting out a shaky breath. Younghyun is looking straight at him, looking straight through him, and his lips, and his cheeks, and his _eyes_ —

            “What do you think?” Dowoon asks, returning the question to him. Placing his hand over the one on his cheek. “What do you think I want?”

            Younghyun hums in answer at that, and the sound of it sends a spark down to his abdomen, with the way Younghyun comes closer, tilts his head to his right.

            “I think you want me,” he says, voice low against his ear. Lips hovering just above the skin on his neck. “Is that right, baby? Do you _want_ me?”

            Dowoon can’t take it anymore.

            “ _Yes_ ,” he breathes, wanting it, wanting it, wanting it. “Hyung, let me have you.”

            Younghyun pulls away, just to lean in.

            “You already do.”

            He crashes their lips together, and Dowoon lets out a moan, feeling Younghyun’s hand slipping under his shirt immediately. He holds onto him for dear life, holds onto skin, and onto breath, and wishes for it to never end, wishes for it to keep going on, just like th—

            “—shit, shit, shit, I’m a stupid fuck, _shit—_ ”

            Dowoon widens his eyes at the realization, the _recognition_ —

            He pushes Younghyun off him and promptly _falls down to the floor_ , hitting his head on the wood with an “Ow!” and at the same time curling in on himself so that the bed covers him fully. He has enough time to hear Younghyun say, “D—” when the door opens and in comes the familiar voice of

            “—ere are the fucking restrooms in this p— _WOAH!_ ”

            Dowoon puts a hand on his hurting head as he vaguely registers Younghyun going a casual, “Hey,” making him want to smack his face with a palm. 

            “Man, _shit_ , sorry,” Jaehyung apologizes, and from Dowoon can see from under the bed, he’s still standing by the doorway. “But also, _damn_. Like, _damn_.”

            Dowoon runs a hand down his face as Younghyun replies, “Ha, thanks. The restrooms are on the other side of the studio, by the way. They’re the doors with the label ‘RESTROOM’ on them.”

            “Oh, my god, _thank_ you, that really clears things up—” _Hyung, you fucking dumbass—_ “Anyway, uh, good day, I guess. And good work.”

            “Sure,” Younghyun says probably with a casual nodding. “See you.”

            The door closes with a lingering awkwardness, and Dowoon pops up from behind the bed, a sigh leaving his lips—

            “By the way, can I ask a question?” The door opens and Dowoon slips back down in a speedy haste, condemning the world for his brother right now.

            “Shoot,” Younghyun says.

            “Do you have a boyfriend?” _Hyung, what the ever-loving fuck._

            “I do, in fact,” Younghyun answers. “And I’m not planning on changing any time soon.”

            _Stupid Younghyun and his stupid sappy cheesiness making me want to kiss him_. “He’s a lucky guy,” Jaehyung says, only sounding mildly disappointed. “Anyway, that was it. Bye now!”

            “Yes. Please. Now.”

            The door closes with a sense of finality and Dowoon finally comes out of his hiding place, folding both arms on the bed and burying his face there. He feels like he just aged five years.

            “Why did we not lock the fucking door?” he asks, voice muffled and done with life.

            “I don’t know—I just assumed you were into that sort of thing, you know, having someone watch—”

            Dowoon hits him over the head and Younghyun yelps out. “Not when the person watching is my fucking brother-in-law!”

            “I was just teas—wait.” Younghyun widens his eyes, hand on his head. “Did you just—”

            “ _No I didn’t shut up shut up shut up_ —”

            “So, my boyfriend is into reverse voyeurism.” Younghyun grins. “I can get behind that.”

            “You are so fucking—” Dowoon runs another palm down his face. “Why am I dating you?”

            “Because you _liiike_ me,” Younghyun teases with a waggle of the eyebrows, leaning down a bit to get on Dowoon’s level. “And one day you’ll tell me you love me, and we’ll get married and have two children, a boy and a girl, and we’re gonna grow old together and watch our kids live their best lives and realize how wonderful it was for us to meet each other.”

            Dowoon stares at him. “Is that your fantasy.”

            “Let your imagination run wild, babe.”

            Dowoon rolls his eyes and pulls him down by the neck, saying, “Don’t need to imagine something right in front of me.”

            He kisses him and closes his eyes, feeling a smile form on his lips, their lips—

            “Hey, you guys done? Sana-ssi’s got some eclairs—”

            “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU EXIST?”

            Dowoon was able to let go in time to see Kevin just now opening the door, looking heartbroken at his statement.

            “I just wanted to tell you that Sana-ssi brought eclairs,” he sobs, slamming the door behind him. The sound of his crying can be heard muffled, slowly dimming as he moves away.

            There’s a pregnant pause.

            “I should apologize to him, he didn’t deserve that,” Dowoon says quickly, standing up and grabbing his (thankfully still-)intact camera, postponing the photoshoot for a little later.

            “Yeah, you should,” Younghyun says, already grabbing his clothes and putting them on. “I’ll get an eclair for you?”

            “That’d be great. Thanks, babe.” And Dowoon pecks Younghyun on the cheek and sends him crumbling down on the bed, making him leave the set with a satisfied smile on his face.

 

Dowoon sighs right in front of Set A as he keeps his arms crossed, looking at the rest of the studio as if survelling any possible government spies in the area. In truth he’s just waiting for Younghyun to finish his business with Sungjin, Jamie, and Kevin over there, who all look like they’re having a serious conversation involving that giant yellow balloon in the shape of a dick. He’s not joking. They look like they’re debating on its ownership.

            “Annoyed that your boyfriend is not with you 24/7, too?” a sudden voice speaks out and Dowoon turns to see Wonpil with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms similar to his as well, looking at the four in the distance.

            Dowoon splutters. _Boyfriend? How the fuck did he—?_

            “Look, it’s obvious, okay?” Wonpil sends him an annoyed glare. “From your first day of work here, it was obvious you two liked each other. And recent times are telling me that you two only _just_ started dating. I can tell that you guys are _trying_ to keep it a secret—though I don’t know why since we don’t have any policies surrounding that—but let me just tell you you guys are doing a _really_ bad job at it. Like, _really_ bad.”

            Dowoon scratches his neck, feeling sheepish. “Um. Okay?”

            Wonpil rolls his eyes and lets out a huff. “Fucking a-okay.”

            As can be observed and inferred, it would seem that Wonpil’s Bitch Factor has started to increase in recent days—specifically from the day Sungjin and Younghyun were supposed to have their photoshoot and continuing up to now, as Dowoon’s noticed. They were actually supposed to do a re-do of the shoot two days after he and Younghyun got together, and Dowoon felt that same devastation from before almost filling himself up to the brim at the dread of it, but it was actually Sungjin who refused to do it, on the grounds that apparently (1) it was tedious to re-do a shoot, (2) he didn’t want Younghyun to end up in another idiot-juice situation (Dowoon kept cackling), and (3) Wonpil just wasn’t having it.

            For some reason, even though Younghyun has said that the two of them are fine with having sexual relations with other people, Wonpil seemed to _hate_ the idea of Sungjin being together with Younghyun in particular, even for just a no-action photoshoot. It felt like he was okay with Sungjin filming with someone else—hell, he even lets him have real, physical sex with someone else’s girlfriend—but for Younghyun, it was a hard no. 

            Dowoon’s noticed that Wonpil seems to harbor a really heavy-ridden disdain and contempt for Younghyun, though he’s sure it’s just one-sided. It’s not to the point that any real damage is being done, like for example dragging people down, or spreading rumors to ruin one’s reputation or career, and Dowoon’s observed that Wonpil can keep a level-headed conversation with Younghyun, albeit its with a lot of sarcastic remarks and a roll of the eyes. But he doesn’t try to be friendly with him. And it doesn’t seem like he wants to be friendly with him, either.

            He doesn’t want to pry, but, well, it’s his boyfriend they’re talking about. What exactly happened between them that produced such a hateful, one-sided rivalry? 

            “Hey, uh,” he starts, “is everything okay with you? You just seem a bit…”

            “Like my Bitch Factor has been upping recently?”

            _Okay. It’s confirmed. Wonpil-ssi is a mind reader._ “N-no! Haha, who would ever word it like that, son? LOL.”

            (Yes, he actually said “LOL”. Give him a break; he’s never had any friends.)

            Wonpil sighs. “It’s nothing serious. Just annoyed that _Young K-ssi_ of all people was recommended for Sungjinnie’s pair photoshoot. I mean, I am literally _standing_ here, a perfect vessel for my boyfriend’s dick up my ass—” Dowoon wishes he didn’t hear that— “and they choose _him_? The guy who treats this entire thing like it’s a joke? The entire point of this industry is to provide content for people to be their true selves and he just—he just—”

            Wonpil lets out a frustrated sound, making others turn to him, then look away in understanding when they see it’s Wonpil. 

            “He never even wanted to be here in the first place,” he grumbles. “What a fucking joke…”

            Dowoon furrows his eyebrows at that, recalling something similar he had heard from the shorter man a while back. He’s about to ask about it when Wonpil lets out a final, de-stressing huff and says,

            “Anyway, enough about Satan: what’s your relationship with that cute, lanky boy who always visits the company?” 

            There are many things for Dowoon to react to from that statement: Wonpil’s blatant referral of Younghyun as the Duke of Hell; the term “relationship” implying Wonpil’s assumption of a possible _romantic_ connection between Dowoon and the subject of notice; the “lanky boy who always visits the company” being axiomatically none-other than Park Jaehyung (in which the previous statement becomes even more dire); and the fact that Wonpil is now currently batting his eyelashes flirtatiously at Dowoon, making him back away for even more reasons than the ones just mentioned.

            But most of all, he reacts to the word “cute”. 

            “Who?” Dowoon asks, squinting his eyebrows and wondering who on Earth Wonpil is talking about, because no way in heck does he know anyone whose name is Park Jaehyung and can be generally considered, if at all, “cute”. 

            Wonpil looks at him with an “oh, come on” look. 

            “You know? Tall, blonde, eyeglasses? Should probably re-dye his roots if it didn’t look so hot on him?” _Ew, ew, ew, ew—_ “You were literally glaring at him from Set A when he was talking to Kevin-ssi earlier. Like you were sending him curses or something.”

            “Oh, well, you wouldn’t be wrong on that.” He’s glad that Jaehyung was already gone by the time Dowoon went out of the set to apologize to Kevin and get those wonderful, wonderful eclairs. Apparently, Jaehyung had a bad case of diarrhea and needed to leave immediately.

            “So?” Wonpil puts a questioning hand out. “What’s your relationship with him?”

            Dowoon sighs. There’s probably no going out of this sort of thing, when it comes to Wonpil. “He’s my brother-in-law. He’s super annoying and an absolute dumbass and frankly, I have no idea why you find him attractive; he’s an absolute doofus.”

            Yet Wonpil looks like Dowoon had been describing him with every positive adjective in the dictionary.

            “Your brother-in-law, huh…” Wonpil taps a thinking finger against his chin, a smirk settling on his lips. “Then how come you didn’t greet him once? It can’t just be that you find him annoying, is it?”

            “Um…” Dowoon coughs at that. “That’s, um… that’s kind of because…”

            “He doesn’t know you’re dating Youngie-hyung, does he.”

            “No, he does not.”

            A mischievous smile plays on Wonpil’s face, and Dowoon starts to realize that maybe he had made a mistake.

            “Then—” And Wonpil places a thumb on Dowoon’s chin at that— “Maybe we can help each other.”

            Dowoon gulps, too afraid to pull away. 

            “U-um, I-I-I don’t think there’s anything I need help with—”

            “Tell me everything you know about him,” Wonpil interrupts, “and I _won’t_ tell him you’re dating one of our pornstars. Sound good?”

            _Evil. Wonpil-ssi is pure evil._ “Isn’t this blackmail—”

            “You gave me the mail.” Wonpil bats his eyes mock-innocently. “So I have every right to send it to whoever I will.”

            “That’s not—that is literally not how it works—”

            A chuckle leaves Wonpil’s lips. “You really aren’t going to relent, are you? Then instead of blackmail, why don’t I offer you a reward?”

            He snakes his arms around Dowoon’s neck and presses their bodies together, Dowoon internally screaming for dear life.

            “And if you want,” Wonpil whispers, right next to his ear, “I can give you the full package—”

            And suddenly, by the Grace of God, Wonpil is yanked away by the collar and Dowoon thanks the heavens for their mercy, almost kneeling down in prayer, supplication, worship.

            “Hey, who’s—” Wonpil’s initial annoyance is replaced by an expression of pure glee when he sees who yanked him away: “Darling! Finally, you’re done.”

            Sungjin lets go of Wonpil’s collar and raises an eyebrow at him, pointedly looking between him and Dowoon. Wonpil converts into Aegyo Mode.

            “Oh, darling, I wasn’t _actually_ going to give up my sexual services for selfish reasons—it wasn’t even that serious!” He cuddles and nuzzles up to Sungjin, wrapping his arms around him.

            “I would have loved to know that _before_ you put your body on me,” Dowoon calls from the side, earning a roll of the eyes from Wonpil.

            “ _Pil-ah_ —” Wonpil flinches from the strict tone— “Don’t lie to me.”

            Eventually, Wonpil relents and buries his face in Sungjin’s chest. He mumbles, “Okay, _fine_ , I was being serious about it. I just wanted to know more about that tall boy we like, okay…”

            At that, both Sungjin _and_ Dowoon raise their eyebrows, Sungjin probably more at “that tall boy” with Dowoon more at “we” and “like”.

            Sungin gives Dowoon a questioning look and he says, “He’s my brother-in-law.”

            “Your brother-in-law?”

            _Who are we, Alexandre Dumas?_ “Yes, my brother-in-law. And Wonpil-ssi wanted to know more about him, which is why it ended up like this.”

            “He didn’t try to blackmail you first?”

            _What is the deal with this man._ “Uh, yeah. He did.”

            “ _Pil-ah..._ ”

            Wonpil groans out in displeasure. “I just wanted to know more about him!”

            “That doesn’t mean you can go blackmailing people.” Sungjin frowns. “Dowoon-ssi probably has a reason for keeping his relationship with Young K-ssi a secret from his brother.”

            “ _I’m sorry excuse me what the fuck?_ ”

            Sungjin looks at him. “It’s obvious.”

            Wonpil pulls away and looks at him. “Told  you.”

            Dowoon runs a hand down his face. Great, if they know, then the entire company knows. Looks like he’s gonna have to brief every single staff member on his situation. 

            “Anyway, I’m really sorry about this, Dowoon-ssi—I promise I’ll keep Pil-ah in line,” Sungjin apologizes, arms wrapped around him; Wonpil mumbles something bitterly. “We’ll just deal with this interest on our own—he’ll come back soon, eventually.”

            He bows his head and turns to leave, but Dowoon stops them before they could.

            “Wait—what do you mean by ‘interest’?” he asks, recalling that “we like” from before.

            Sungjin blinks at him. “Oh, was it not obvious? Me and Pil-ah have taken a liking to that tall man. We were actually talking to him earlier by Kevin-ssi’s workplace, but he ran away to the rest rooms before we could finish talking. And we tried to talk to him again after, but he said he got diarrhea? But he’s been using that excuse for three days now, so we’re pretty sure he’s just avoiding us.”

            “So our obvious solution is to just keep talking to him until he realizes we’re the hottest guys here and then we could have a romantic threesome at our apartment, since our bed is big enough to fit five people,” Wonpil says, rather blunt.

            There’s a pregnant pause.

            “Have you two ever successfully courted anyone before?” Dowoon asks.

            “We started going out after we had sex at the strip club Pil-ah used to work at.” Wonpil nods at that. “So… no.” And Wonpil shakes his head.

            Dowoon falls into a spiral of summarizing thoughts at the tea that just got spilled in their ten-minute conversation. So, Wonpil and Sungjin have taken a liking to Jaehyung… And since Jaehyung is going to keep going to the company more often they have lots of opportunities… But they suck at flirting with people other than themselves… Which means… And if _Dowoon_ … And considering Younghyun… And Jaehyung… Then—

            “Darling, I don’t wanna watch this man mumble to himself like a crazy person anymore, can we go—”

            “Park Jaehyung.”

            Both Sungjin and Wonpil turn back around at that, in the middle of turning away. They find themselves staring at the grin on Dowoon’s face, mayhaps even _more_ mischievous than the one Wonpil gave him at first.

            “That’s his name,” Dowoon clarifies with a pointed look, when they give him confused ones. “He’s twenty-seven, a full-blood Korean, and out as pan. He studied abroad in California, with a major in English and a minor in Political Science, and currently works as a writer for a media outlet while also writing for his own blog. He’s allergic to almost everything, so he can’t eat a lot, but he absolutely loves lobster and anything fancy. His favorite color is white, his Zodiac sign is Virgo, his blood type is type B, and since he just finished his major project at his job, he is virtually free all the time, until the next one.”

            Dowoon looks, satisfied, at Sungjin and Wonpil’s bewildered faces, almost as if they couldn’t believe what Dowoon just said.

            “W-wait, but why are  you telling us this—I thought you didn’t want any sexual favors,” Wonpil laughs a bit. “Unless…?”

            “That’s still a hard pass, I’m sorry.” And Wonpil snaps his finger in an “aw, man” gesture. “But no—the reason why I’m telling you all this is because like you said, Wonpil-ssi, we might be able to help each other.”

            A devious smile pulls up his face.

            “And I think I know exactly how.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This was the first chapter by which my only basis was a vague idea and i just wrote as i went. Like that last scene was completely improvised and not at all planned to go that way, but it just went. It still adhered to like the general idea of the new arc of lens, which is now the “Park Jaehyung: Cock-Block Extraordinaire” arc, which is different from the previous “Yoon Dowoon: Heart-Block Extraordinaire” arc.  
> \- I gotta be honest in that the PJH arc is really the most vague for me at the moment. Like i know exactly how it ends and how it resolves, but i have no idea what happens in between. We’ll just have to see i guess >:3c  
> \- No songs in my head for this chapter, actually, fun fact. But some song recs are:  
> \---IV of Spades - “Come Inside of My Heart”  
> \---Autotelic - “Layungin”  
> \---Hale - “The Day You Said Goodnight”, “Kung Wala Ka”, “Blue Sky”  
> \---Sarah Geronimo - “Isa Pang Araw”, “Kilometro”, “Tala”  
> \---“Dati” by Sam Concepcion, Tippy Dos Santos, and Quest  
> \---Yeng Constantino - “Ikaw”  
> \---“Upuan” by Gloc-9 feat Jeazell Grutas  
> \---SB19 (they are my babies, pls love them)


End file.
